


and let me crawl inside your veins

by moonstruckandkissedinsane



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Affair turned relationship, Affairs, Age Difference, All the forbidden professor/student sex you never thought you wanted until now, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Play, Arya & Gendry are both single, Arya calls Gendry 'daddy' during sex a couple times, Arya gets a UTI, Arya is 19, But it's totally hot, Camping, Consensual Kink, Consensual Rough Sex, Consensual Sex, Consent is Sexy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fencing!Arya, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Forge!Arya, Gendry is 31, Gendry is a Baratheon, Includes screenshots of Arya's Instagram, Includes screenshots of texts, Jealousy, Menstrual Sex, Minor Podrick Payne/Sansa Stark, No cheating involved whatsoever, Oral Sex, Professor Baratheon, Public Sex, Realistic, Realistic relationship details, Romance, Secret Relationship, Sex After Care, Sexting, Smut, Teacher-Student Relationship, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Tumblr Prompt, age kink, takes place in England
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 103,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonstruckandkissedinsane/pseuds/moonstruckandkissedinsane
Summary: “Threatening your professor with violence? Not very ladylike now inn’t, Stark?” he cocks his head and quirks an eyebrow up.Arya merely shrugs her shoulders and grins, bats her eyelashes at him from underneath the welding helmet. “Have you had any more interesting offers as of late, Professor Baratheon?”ORHow 19 year old Arya Stark finds herself having an affair with her 31 year old professor of Classic Metalwork in her first year at uni.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was completely birthed as soon as I saw a prompt post on lokiswolves' Tumblr. Link to said post no longer exists, sadly. Photos were also snagged from lokiswolves. Thank you, lokiswolves, for the inspiration! 
> 
> The title is a lyric from Billie Eilish's song Hostage.
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
> 
> [ALMCIYV Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gctWzLG3y8ij2vAAMZoSF)
> 
> **Follow me for sneak peeks, updates and more!**
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> [Tumblr](https://moonstruckandkissedinsane.tumblr.com/)
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> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/fallon.corinne/)
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> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FallonWCorinne)

**_Friday, 5 April 2019_ **

 

Sparks fly as Arya’s hammer comes down on the metal she’s willing into the shape of a horseshoe. Her breath is hot and fogs the small window in her welding helmet. Music blares from the headphones wrapped around her neck as sweat drips down her spine and gathers at the small of her back, making her black t-shirt stick to her like a second skin. But it’s not the sweat rolling down her back that is causing the tingling sensation that suddenly spikes up and backs down her spine.

 

She’s being watched. And she knows exactly who’s eyes are currently roaming over her. 

 

Despite the stifling heat, Arya’s thankful for the welding helmet. It allows her the privacy to pretend as though he’s not there and enjoy the feeling of his eyes on her, being the centre of his attention if only for a fleeting moment. But most importantly it covers her reddening face, though she imagines it was probably pretty red already from the heat of the forge.

 

Satisfied with the shape, she lowers her hammer and turns to plunge the horseshoe into a bucket of water. After a few seconds, she throws her head back so the helmet snaps back onto the top of her head like she’s a seasoned pro, revealing her sweaty face. One side of her dirty, baggy dungarees is unclasped, gaping at her side and when she turns it shows off the skin of her taut belly and left hip where her shirt has risen up, the tight cotton material clinging around the full swell of her breasts, leaving little to the imagination as to the shape of her curves hidden behind the baggy denim. When she leans her weight on one hip, the dungarees dip even lower until a hint of the band of her knickers can be seen wrapped low around the ample curve of her hip. Steam rises, enveloping her. Arya turns her head over her shoulder and gives her audience a smirk and the rise of an eyebrow. The movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows is her reward. 

 

“Professor Baratheon, I didn’t know you were coming in today,” Arya greets in what she hopes is a playfully sarcastic, but also seductive tone. 

 

“Wasn’t planning on it, _m’lady_ ,” he squints his eyes at her on the last word as a toothy grin develops on his face. It sends an electrifying jolt straight down to her core. She dares to hold his gaze for an extra second longer before turning her attention back to the bucket of water. He walks past her as he rolls his shoulders out of his blazer and tugs it off, throwing it onto an empty metal table workstation beside hers. Arya takes advantage of him being turned away from her to stare openly and meander over his broad muscled back that is evident even underneath his formal work clothes. He reaches back and pulls the jumper vest off over his head and flings it carelessly onto the table, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead and upper lip. Arya’s eyes trail down and over his firm ass in his burgundy slacks that hug his hips tight. He begins unbuttoning his cuffs to roll the sleeves up to his forearms when he distracts her out of her reverie. 

 

“Think that horseshoe is good and cold now, yeah?” he teases her with a slightly sarcastic smile, not looking at her, still focused on unbuttoning his cuffs. 

 

Arya looks down and realizes she’s still plunging the horseshoe into the bucket of water, creating small puddles on the floor from water overflowing. She inhales sharply out of embarrassment and quickly raises the tongs in her hand out of the water and releases the metal onto her workstation. He walks over to inspect her work, one sleeve completely rolled up and the fabric bunching over his bulging bicep while he works on unbuttoning the second cuff. As he leans over the table staring intently at her creation for an upcoming assignment, her eyes linger on his defined forearm and bicep as she wonders not for the first time if he knows what he’s doing to her. What he’s been doing to her since last semester. And whether any of it is intentional. 

 

“I tell you _one_ time that I’m _distantly_ related to royalty…” she sing-songs her complaint, his usage of the greeting not lost on her despite the distraction.

 

“Oh yeah, just royalty,” he agrees with mock seriousness, nodding his head, still looking only at the horseshoe and struggling to release the cufflink on his left wrist. 

 

“Your father is _just_ a lord.”

 

“A member of the _House_ of Lords,” Arya sighs.

 

“Not to mention that you’re proper posh.”

 

“Am _not_ ,” she argues with indignation, her accent giving her posh upbringing she prefers to vehemently deny, away.

 

“Are _too_ , ya’ bloody high born.” 

 

“And you’re not posh with a grand name like Baratheon, then? _Please_.”

 

“Ayup! I’m not close to that side of the family,” he defends with a smile, his own accent giving his working-class background away despite his regal surname. 

 

A grin spreads across her lips, watching his profile. He’s still struggling with his cuff, distracted by his inspection of her horseshoe. 

 

“Here,” Arya offers as she grabs his wrist from out of his grasp to free him from the handmade cufflink in the shape of a stag before he can protest and before her bravery and adrenaline die out as quickly as they came. In the back of her mind, she realizes this is highly inappropriate behaviour on her part, especially as a 19-year-old first-year student alone in the university’s metalworking department smithy after-hours with her handsome and much older professor. But in this instance with no one else around other than the lab technician who was responsible for shutting everything down once lab hours ended, she thinks, _Decorum be damned_. The tech has been outside on break for hours anyway, having one cig after another and playing on his phone. No other students ever take advantage of the additional open lab hours on Friday nights beside her. 

 

Once her fingers begin to work on releasing the cufflink, she finds he doesn’t resist, not even once. Even though her fingers are slightly marred with soot, he doesn’t seem to mind. And that both excites and terrifies her in equal measure. Her fingertips caress the sensitive skin of his inner wrist with a featherlight touch a couple of times. Perhaps it was accidental. Perhaps not. 

 

The action doesn’t seem to be missed by him. “I thought I told you not to call me Professor Baratheon,” he pretends to chide her, to keep the joke going. His voice comes out low, perhaps an octave lower than he intended. 

 

“And I seem to recall telling you not to call me m’lady,” Arya snarks back. 

 

“Oi, you started it.” 

 

“Shall I call you Dr Baratheon, PhD then?” 

 

“Shall I call you Viscountess of Primrose Hill?”

 

Arya frees and sets down the little metal stag. Inspired by their banter, she begins rolling his sleeve up for him, slowly dragging the fabric and her fingers along his forearm. She tucks the fabric up around his bicep, indulging in the feel of the shape of his arm. This languid linger she allows her fingertips is the most she’s ever touched him beside the few times where she has purposely screwed up what he clearly instructed her to do during class, forcing him to step up from behind her shoulder and wrap his large and rough hand over her’s holding the hammer. Here now under her hand, the warm skin and hard muscle of his arm is both a reminder and proof that before her stands a man, not a boy. An adult, not a teenager. A professor. Not a classmate. 

 

“Not unless you want my dagger to your throat,” is her reply as she drops her hands and looks up at him for the first time since grabbing his wrist. The look she finds on his face before he seems to quickly will it away sends warmth pooling low in her belly that simmers down, down, _down_. 

 

“Threatening your professor with violence? Not very ladylike now innt, Stark?” he cocks his head and quirks an eyebrow up.

 

Arya merely shrugs her shoulders and grins, bats her eyelashes at him from underneath the welding helmet. “Have you had any more interesting offers as of late, Professor Baratheon?”

 

His blue eyes flash with what she can only surmise as delicious danger laced with promise if unleashed. The air is charged with the same palpable tension that has been building between them week by week since Arya started uni last autumn.

 

He breaks the moment, because he always eventually breaks the moment, turning his attention back down to the metal in his hands. He coughs to clear his throat. It’s obviously forced.

 

“You’re getting better, Arya. Finally listening to me, I see,” he offers a draw on the use of titles before placing it back down and walking back to his workstation, throwing his dirty leather apron over his nice slacks.

 

“Ta, Gendry.” She accepts. Arya lifts the helmet off of her head to place it down and runs the back of her arm across her forehead.

 

“Why are you here dressed smart like that? You’re going to ruin your pretty professor clothes,” she inquires in a slightly bossy, teasing tone as she ruffles her hair before slicking it back and grabbing her baseball hat, putting it on backwards. Often she jokes him about his upper class attire when she sees him teaching in her History of Westerosi Weaponry course since it’s such a vivid contrast to the version of him she’s most accustomed to seeing during her Introduction to Classic Metalwork course and all her available free time spent in the smithy during open lab hours when she knows he’ll be there. When she thinks of Gendry, Arya’s mind instantly conjures visions of him standing tall next to the burning forge, often wearing a discarded old shirt, the elastic around the neck pulled loose from years of overuse and showing off the top expanse of his muscled chest, covered in sweat and soot as he gives a lecture in class, walking around helping students and her favourite, when he demonstrates his incredible strength and skill with hammer in hand, zoned out from the rest of the world when he finds enough time to work on his own passion projects. That’s not to say he’s out of his element in the classroom. He’s just as impressive in that arena as he is in the smithy and he possesses a special kind of affable charm that gives him control over a room, enthralling students with stories of ancient methods of making legendary Valyrian steel and Dragonglass. While Arya thinks that he seems truly in his element when she sees him getting his hands dirty, despite all her teasing, she secretly loves seeing him dressed in fine gentleman’s clothes. It makes him look like a proper, _authoritative_ professor.

 

“Havin’ a shit day. Just finished my last class and car won’t start. Been trying to get it going for the last hour but I think the fucker’s finally died. Might as well take my frustrations out on some defenceless metal,” Gendry answers with a defeated sigh. His honesty shakes her from the little fantasy she seemed to have suddenly slipped away into. 

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she offers, sensing perhaps she should leave so he can be well enough alone. Or maybe offer him a ride-

 

“What’s a young royal heiress-“he interrupts her thoughts.

 

“Watch it.”

 

“What’s a young _lass_ , such as yourself-“ 

 

-Gendry pauses, standing in front of the forge with his back to her and without having to look at her, they both nod their head in acceptance of his correction at the same time- 

 

“-doing making horseshoes on a Friday night when she could be out with friends getting in her cups or out on a date?” 

 

A blush blooms angry and red on her chest. This is the first time he’s ever mentioned her in the same context as dating.

 

“Who says I don’t have a date waiting for me later?” Arya decides to run with it and be brave. Of course, she doesn’t have a date later on. There isn’t a single guy she’s interested in from any of her classes. The man standing before her, unbeknown to him, saw to that.

 

Gendry’s arm stills his movements while standing in front of the forge, heating the end of a sword he’s been working on lately. And that _definitely_ doesn’t go unnoticed by Arya. 

 

“Yeah? Who is he.” It’s a question but delivered as a demand that comes out of nowhere. And it thrills her. It absolutely fucking thrills her so much so that she’s almost forgotten that she’s supposed to have a pretend date waiting for her and he’s inquiring as to the identity of said nonexistent person. And Arya doesn’t have an answer for that right away. 

 

_Shite._

 

“You wouldn’t know him-“

 

“It’s Podrick, isn’t it?”

 

Gendry’s tone is neutral, but he’s prodding at the coals in the burning forge with the end of his sword a little more aggressively than he normally might. 

 

“Podrick?” Arya is taken aback at the mention of her classmate.

 

“Yeah, he’s always fawning over you.” Gendry turns back to his anvil and grabs a hammer out of the pocket on his apron and begins to shape the sword with a bit more force than necessary.

 

“Wha-no he doesn’t,” she scoffs, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And the knowledge that Gendry had been paying attention to Podrick’s advances has her stomach rolling with excitement. 

 

He looks up at her then and sees her impeccably placed confused expression.

 

“Aw’ come off it, he’s always offering to put away your tools and cleans up your station when you’re not looking. I’ve overheard him trying to sweet talk you a few times. Paying you compliments, was he?” 

 

He turns away from the anvil and plunges the red hot tip of the sword into a bucket of water. 

 

“At least _someone_ pays me compliments,” is her mumbled retort.

 

Gendry looks back up at her through the steam surrounding him with a slight smirk. “I gave you a compliment!”

 

“The one about me finally listening to you? That was lovely,” she teases. 

 

“Noo, I said you’re getting better,” he turned with a smile back to his workstation and placed the sword down. 

 

Arya walked over to stand beside him, both leaning over to peer at the blade. 

 

“And you have. Your craftsmanship has come lightyears away from where you started just a few months ago.” His voice is genuine, devoid of teasing. They don’t look at each other. She shifts her feet, and now her arm is lightly brushing his. 

 

“Thanks. Those aren’t the only kind of compliments Podrick pays me though.” 

 

She can feel his gaze on her again without looking, but this time it’s penetrating. 

 

“Yeah? What kind of compliments won you over for that bumbling idiot?” Gendry’s voice sounds like he’s trying to aim for lighthearted, but it comes out clipped with annoyance. 

 

She answers honesty as she reaches out to pick up the handle of his sword from off the table. 

 

“He tells me how hot I am.”

 

“And?”

 

“And?” 

 

“And-that’s it?”

 

“Well, yeah-“

 

“And that worked?” 

 

Arya looks up at him then, holding the sword up straight. He sounds sarcastic. 

 

“I’d be careful if I were you,” she warns him with a nod towards the very large sword she’s holding, even though she agrees with his sentiment. “Why? What kind of compliments do you give girls when you’re trying to chat them up?” She still hasn’t yet been able to determine whether or not he was seeing anyone, not for lack of research. The only social media account of his she could find was incredibly sparse of information. Despite knowing that she’s asking a very improper question, she can sense that the atmosphere between them has changed this evening and this is as close to finding out as she’s ever going to get.

 

Not that it matters and not that it’ll ever possibly lead to anything. He’s her professor, after all. She’s his student. 

 

“If there was a woman I fancied, I’d tell her how beautiful and gorgeous she was, not just tell her she’s hot.” Gendry’s voice is soft as he rests his eyes on the sword in her hand while she takes quick, precise swings in the air, handling the sword as though it were a foil for fencing.

 

The sword starts to slow in mid-movement at the sincerity of his voice. 

 

“I’d tell her how intelligent and witty she was and how much she makes me laugh.”

 

Arya swallows thickly at the intimacy of his words and tone. The smithy is silent save for the fire in the forge and the music playing around her neck. She makes another slow sweeping arc with the sword, imagining herself literally cutting the tension in the air, it’s that thick. Gendry shifts his feet, and now his entire right arm is pressed against her left. If he were inclined to, she thinks to herself, he could easily shift his hand over and run his fingers down the shallow curve of her waist that was still exposed, Arya never having lowered her risen shirt. 

 

His voice drops lower. “I’d tell her how strong she was, both as a person and physically and how much of a turn on that is.” 

 

Her cunt engorges at his words. She turns her head slightly towards him before chancing a glance up at him, lowering the sword back down to the table.

 

Thin deep blue irises ringed around blacked out pupils stare back at her under heavy lids, and she can’t breathe under the intensity of his stare.

 

Gendry turns toward her. “I’d tell her that no one is worthy of her, certainly not tossers who don’t know how to compliment a woman properly.” 

 

They stare at each other for a beat, but it feels much longer. Arya’s eyes break first, landing on his lips. Subconsciously she licks her bottom lip before bringing her eyes back up to his, only to see that his eyes aren’t staring back but are instead focused lower on her face and she dares to believe it’s her lips he’s looking at. 

 

“Hey Gendry, car’s on!” the booming voice of the lab technician breaks the moment like a brick through a glass pane window. 

 

Startled, they both jump apart from one another before he enters. 

 

“Seriously? Thanks, mate, you’re a lifesaver.” Gendry sounds ragged as though he just ran a mile.

 

“Yeah, no worries, wasn’t up to much anyway with this one being the only one here and already knowing what she’s doing.” The lab tech leans against the wall, oblivious and obviously not leaving any time soon.

 

Arya looks back and gives the tech a tight, uncomfortable smile. This fucker has just ruined an amazing moment that has been building since September, and here it is April and even though she knows it’s wrong and forbidden and can’t happen, won’t happen, she wants Gendry, she wants this man and wants to know all his secrets that no one else knows, wishes she could discover the parts of him that only other women luckier than her have been able to explore. 

 

Their eyes meet briefly before Arya turns around to face her workstation and struggles to slide her arms into an old hoodie she digs out of her backpack even though she’s still sweating; she knows she’ll regret not wearing it once her bared skin hits the cold chill of the spring evening. Slinging her book bag over her shoulder, she turns back to Gendry before walking out. He’s looking at the hoodie with a slightly bemused expression. 

 

“Have a good weekend.” She tries to convey a million things she wishes to say with her eyes alone, trying not to tip off the tech standing behind her.

 

Gendry gives her a deep and respectful nod. “Have a good date,” he replies, and his eyes are much more guarded since he’s in full view of the tech who refuses to fucking _leave_. 

 

Arya offers a smile as thanks and spins on her heel, ignoring the tech’s good evening wishes while striding past him and out of the building into the cold night air. Once she’s outside on the sidewalk, she takes a deep shuddering breath, the smell of Gendry lingering in her nose. Sweat. Iron. Faded cologne. And a distinctive male musk. She turns her face into her shoulder to get a deeper sniff of his hoodie that she snatched from the lost and found and forces her legs to carry her to her car, her entire body thrumming with electricity. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is when this story begins to earn its explicit rating. Gendry's POV.
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
> 
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Gendry runs the back of his hand across his forehead, which is suddenly pouring with sweat as he stares at Arya’s lithe retreating form. The technician is blathering on about what he did to get the car running again and Gendry, while appreciative, couldn’t give a fuck less at the moment. Right now his mind is consumed with the sight of Arya’s bared skin, her flirtatious behaviour and the knowledge that she is on her way to a date with fucking Podrick Payne, his wanker of a first-year student.

 

 _Arya’s your student too_ , his conscience bellows. His conscience has been having to work overtime as of late.

 

The tech catches his attention finally when he mentions that he should leave now while the car is still running just in case.

 

“Right, yeah. Alright then, cheers.” Gendry sounds dazed, but thankfully for him, the tech doesn’t notice. He unlaces his apron and slings it over his workstation. While reaching to grab his blazer and jumper vest, he looks over at Arya’s station and the tools she didn’t put away because she was in a rush to leave. He finds himself dropping the blazer and walking over to her station to tidy it up. He tells himself it’s not out of jealousy from Podrick cleaning her station for her.

 

When Gendry gets into his car and shuts the door, he adjusts the crotch of his slacks out of discomfort and shame from his cock leaking earlier into his boxer briefs.

 

He spends the car ride home replaying the entire interaction with Arya. From staring at her unannounced from the doorway of the smithy, eyes roaming for the first time over her toned stomach and the luscious curve of her hip; much more of her than he should be privy to. To the way her eyes travelled down to rest on his lips, her wet pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. And how they both jumped apart in surprise when the tech suddenly appeared and what that says about the status of their professional relationship. Guilt gnaws at his gut because he knows why he was so startled. And what the tech interrupted him from almost doing.

 

His balls still ache when he walks through the threshold of his flat. Gendry ignores it. He tries to will it away with a textbook on The Rebirth of Valyrian Steel During the Dawn of Light Age and a curry takeaway. When that eventually fails to hold his attention, he picks up around the flat; not that there is much to clean since he lives alone and hasn’t been home long enough lately to make a mess.

 

Once he’s finished after a whole five minutes, he stares absently around the living room when suddenly Arya forces her way back into his mind again when his eyes land on a stack of reports he’s been grading for his History of Westerosi Weaponry class. Her’s is poking out near the top of the pile. He can tell because the corners are dog eared from repeated flipping. Out of the entire class, hers is the only report he read three times. Which brings him back to staring down into her wide grey eyes that radiate too many emotions he fears and delights to give names to. Suddenly Gendry drops down onto the floor into a push-up and easily cranks out one hundred, his button-down shirt straining down the centre of his chest from the force of his muscles exertion. He thinks that’ll sate him. All it does is increases his testosterone.

 

Later when his hand finally acquiescences in the shower and grabs his painfully swollen cock, he tells himself that it’s not because of the large bead of sweat he watched rolling down the side of her stomach and escaping out of sight into her dungarees. As he begins to palm his shaft, he tells himself it’s not because he can still feel the ghost of her fingertips on his forearm and he can now easily imagine what those same fingertips would feel like trailing up and down his length. When he bucks into his hand after his fingers drift up to rub over the head and then pulls the foreskin taut on the next downstroke, he tells himself that it’s not because of the look on her face after he subconsciously and foolishly in a roundabout way admitted that he fancies her and the pleading, open invitation dangerously calling to him in her eyes as response. While hot water rains down on him over his head and he leans one arm against the wall of the shower, struggling to catch his breath as his hand jerks in earnest now, he tells himself it’s not her tight, young pussy he wishes he could plunge his achingly hard cock into on top of his workstation in the forge. As unbridled lust coils low in his core and he grips his cock harder, panting, he tells himself it’s not because he wants her, has wanted her since the goddamn moment he laid eyes on her when he handed her a syllabus; it’s not because she stimulates both his mind and his loins; it’s not because of his forbidden crush on his 19-year-old student who is unattainable to him in every sense but keeps luring him in and is the source for why he has turned down many an opportunity to go on dates with willing and available women.

 

His balls pull up tight, his cock throbs; orgasm is six seconds away. Gendry’s muscles flex, his skin bright red from the spray of pounding hot water, strands of dark hair plastered to his forehead. Right before he lets go, he tells himself that it’s not her pouty full lips and graceful neck that he wishes to see slathered in his seed, staring back up at him from underneath his desk after class. And then the coil snaps. Streams of come get lost in the water, along with his vision and sense of hearing. Gendry sinks forward against the wall with a loud groan, his red and still firm cock in hand. Shivers run through him a couple of times as his orgasm ebbs away. For a moment he’s at peace, satisfied. The monster has been tamed. Until…

 

Seconds later, that same monster begins to awaken, and soon enough it howls. This is the moment, standing defeated under the spray of hot water, that he admits this crush has gotten out of hand. Because despite what he believes to be emanating from Arya’s eyes, voice and body language as being authentic, Gendry can’t pursue her. It would be wholly unethical, and he could be sacked. Not to mention who knows what kind of legal weight her parents would throw if they were ever to catch a whiff of something happening between their precious teenage daughter and her 31-year-old professor, twelve years her senior. They’re not paying unbelievable loads of money to send their daughter to a private university so she can be debauched, willingly or not, by her professor who has blurred the lines of professionalism by becoming a friend.

 

But he couldn’t help himself earlier tonight after he took a gamble to inquire as innocently as possible to find out if she was dating anyone after she undid his cuff and rolled his sleeve. It was so unexpected that he had frozen, allowing her to do whatever she wished while fighting and failing the rush of arousal that threatened to make its evidence known. By the time she began rolling the sleeve a quarter of a way up his forearm, he was rock hard, the head sticking straight up and straining against the width of his leather belt. He prayed to God, Buddha, to the Old Gods and the New that they once worshipped in Westeros that she wouldn’t glance at his crotch. After her confident yet coy answer, he put two and two together and figured it was Podrick who was waiting for her. And Gendry didn’t expect the sudden jealousy and possessiveness that consumed him with no claim to back it up, leading him to take a little more advantage of the opportunity she presented him when asking how he chats up women and therefore saying more than he intended.

 

A disappointing thought creeps up as he moves to turn off the water. While he, a grown man, is wanking off to the most scandalous and inappropriate thoughts about his unattainable and gorgeous student who happens to be the epitome of everything he has ever desired in a woman, she’s off somewhere on a date with dopey Podrick, likely getting pawed at and he’s here pawing himself. Which means she has a life outside of the socially acceptable small windows of time he gets graced to see her. And he’s not utilizing his.

 

When he flops into bed and lays an arm over his eyes, he ponders not for the first time whether she has any inkling what she does to him. And whether it even fucking matters. Before sleep claims him, he jolts up slightly onto an elbow when he suddenly remembers the faded screen print on the back of the hoodie Arya put on before leaving tonight. He knows now why it looked so familiar. Gendry caught sight of the word Without behind her book bag, but bits and pieces of the screen print were picked away, and he couldn’t make out the rest.

 

“The Brotherhood Without Banners,” Gendry breathes out into the darkness. He lost that hoodie months ago, it’s one of his favourites that he’s had since uni.

 

And Arya took it out of her book bag and wore it out the door.

 

It’s stupid to allow burgeoning hope to make a presence at all because there’s nothing valid he can hope for that can actually be attained. But still.

 

_“Who says I don’t have a date waiting for me later?”_

 

Words are wind. Actions are everything.

 

••

 

Unbeknownst to Gendry, twenty minutes away lies Arya in bed panting and sweaty. A fourth orgasm tears her apart, making her see white spots that collect and blind her vision. Afterwards, she collapses, melting into the mattress again, her dildo resting in her left hand still glistening slick in the light of the bedside lamp. She’s alone in her bedroom in the flat she shares with her sister near uni. Her cunt is swollen dark pink and sore from overuse, and still, she is not sated.

 

••

 

He spends the weekend running errands, grabbing tea with a colleague, going to the gym, and sneaking into the forge after weekend lab hours so he can have it all to himself to do his own version of meditation. Gendry arrived intending to take his mind off of Arya but being back at the scene of the crime doesn’t exactly help matters. Regardless, he’s able to eventually get past the ghost of her that seems to have taken up space in his mind since Friday and longer than that if he's honest with himself. One evening he allows a mate to talk him into going to a small casual get together where there’s a girl his friend works with and has been trying to get the two together to meet. He goes because the skin of his cock is raw from thoughts of a 19-year-old girl he’ll never have and shouldn’t be thinking about. But the woman sitting before him was too…pretty. No attitude, no substance, no hint of a hard edge to this wisp of a woman. He finds he requires that now in order for anyone to capture and keep his attention. Gendry clapped his friend on the shoulder before heading out sans phone number.

 

As Sunday evening rolls around, Gendry begins to feel anxious about seeing Arya in class tomorrow. Thankfully it won’t be in the forge for Classic Metalwork but rather in the classroom for History. It means less interaction during class although she’s been known to show up early to prod him into debates just to get a rise out of him. He can’t ascertain whether she would still show up early in light of Friday night or whether he even wants her to; right now he fears that if he is given a chance alone with her too soon, he’ll either make one of two mistakes: accidentally push her away by being awkwardly distant out of fear of having insulted her by being too forward or the complete opposite, grabbing her by the hair on the nape of her neck and smashing her lips against his.

 

Despite his anxiety, Gendry has a feeling he knows which one she would prefer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii and thank you so much for reading, the kudos and comments!!! So happy others are enjoying this 😄This chapter includes a line directly lifted from the Tumblr prompt post that inspired this entire fic: _So you think you can mess up my classroom and my mind, Stark?_ **Swoon.**
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
> 
> [ALMCIYV Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gctWzLG3y8ij2vAAMZoSF)
> 
> **Follow me for sneak peeks, updates and more!**
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> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FallonWCorinne)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_**Monday, 8 April 2019** _

 

“The benefits and drawbacks of magnificent Braavos water dancing versus Westeros sword fighting that had fuck all to do with grace: GO.”

 

Gendry lifts his head from the report in his hands at the sound of Arya’s challenge and the door to his classroom shutting behind her. He’s sitting in his chair with his back turned away from his desk, for which she is thankful for because it allows her an extra 12 seconds to gather her courage before he faces her.

 

“Now, let’s get one thing straight about proper sword fighting, right?” His voice sounds amused and gives away his smile before he slowly turns around to face her. _Good_. He sounds the same. Arya was worried on the walk over here this morning that maybe things would suddenly be awkward between them, that perhaps given time over the weekend he’d regret his thinly veiled confession. She wonders how he’ll sound in about 3 seconds when he sees what she’s wearing. 

 

Gendry’s eyes widen, and the next sarcastic retort that he was about to make gets caught in his throat. _Success._  

 

“And that would be?” Arya tilts her head at him expectingly, clutching the strap of her book bag slung over her right shoulder with enough force that contradicts her easy demeanour. 

 

His eyes trail blatantly down her body, making no effort in concealing his gaze. It caresses her out of thin air and feels more intimate than any of the heated random makeout sessions she’s ever partaken in at parties. Arya watches as his eyes take her in. Her soft, loose locks hanging freely under her baseball hat, down to her baggy grey jumper that hangs off the mounds of her generous breasts with a pair of tight, black denim shorts that scandalously hug just below the ample curve of her ass. Under the shorts, she’s wearing a pair of old black fishnet stockings covering her thin and shapely legs. The stockings have been worn in and are scattered with small holes and large rips. Donning her feet are her trademark black military boots, scuffed to hell. Gendry has seen her in baggy jumpers and shirts where her abundant curves could still not be concealed, and he’s seen her wear these boots exclusively. But what he’s never once seen before is her legs on display and certainly not in fishnets. She’s always worn pants, a fact that Arya planned to rectify this morning when rooting through her closet, trying to find something that was still true to her style and edge but sexier than she generally allows herself to be at school. 

 

Apparently allowing herself to be girly and agonize for 45 minutes on what she would wear today proved to be fruitful. Gendry’s lips are slightly parted, a gentle rise of his brows as he takes her in. The look on his face is so sexy, it sends pure delight through her veins, spreading heat throughout her body. 

 

But then his eyebrows pinch together, and his lips close, meeting in an uncomfortable line. His eyes are somewhere near her feet, she can’t quite tell, but he seems progressively displeased. 

 

 _Oh no._  

 

Gendry turns back into Professor Baratheon and returns his attention to the report in his hands without so much as a glance back at her face. Oddly her skin suddenly feels cooler no longer under his gaze. 

 

Arya is losing her confidence. So she prods him. 

 

“So? As you were saying? The thing about sword fighting is…?”

 

“I really need to finish grading these last few reports before class starts. Mind if we take a rain check on the debate?” he asks, but it’s said with the undertone of dismissal. 

 

An incredulous look develops on her face. “What? You’re always ahead of grading papers, you’re usually done a week in advance. I’d know because I always bug you for my grade before they’re due back to us and you said mine was done ages ago.”

 

“I haven’t had time to finish the rest. Been busy in the evenings,” he explains with a tone that indicates he wishes to discuss it no further. He’s still staring intently at the report in his hands. Jealousy begins to inflame her gut as she immediately surmises that the source of his preoccupation recently must be a woman. 

 

She begins to slowly walk to his desk. “Why, is your lady keeping you up at night?” she asks sarcastically with a slight hint of contempt. 

 

“Yeah, you could say that,” he mutters so softly that she thinks perhaps he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. It sounds like a slipped confession that feels entirely too intimate despite the simple words. About a woman who is not her but rather someone he’s actually interested in and is most likely _(definitely)_ fucking. 

 

Arya stands in front of his desk and tries to remind herself that she is a fierce warrior of a woman, and she refuses to feel small at this moment. She doesn’t know how to proceed other than to annoy him with questions because that feels safe and familiar. And yeah, also because she’s dying inside because she needs as much intel on this bitch as possible.

 

“So…what is she-“

 

“How was your date? With Podrick.” Gendry finally drops the report to the desk, leans back and looks up at her. His expression is stoic and challenging.

 

He _seriously_ still thinks she actually went on a date with Podrick? She knows she led him to believe as much on Friday night but she never actually confirmed it, did she? _I said thanks when he said have a good date._ Well shite. Yes, Podrick flirts with her and tries to follow her like a shadow when she isn’t paying attention, but they have known each other since secondary school; he’s harmless. He’s been going through phases of infatuation with different women who want nothing to do with him since he was 14 after being thrust into the sexual spotlight at their school after a 16-year-old harlot a couple levels above them named Ros took his virginity and told everyone about his magic cock. The girls haven’t left him alone since. Podrick doesn’t turn down any offers, but he’s drawn to women who aren’t smitten with him and don’t care about the myth. Which is why Arya happens to be Infatuation #4 in the life of Podrick Payne but mostly because they both happened to get accepted into the same uni and share two classes together this semester.

 

A small laugh escapes Arya as she shakes her head, preparing to tell him that not only did she not go on a date with Podrick but there isn’t a chance in the seven hells of that happening if what the extinct Westerosi believed to be waiting for us in the afterlife is in fact real. But before she can get a single word out, the door to the classroom opens behind her and students start filing in. Gendry looks past her and returns greetings to a few students walking to their desks. A female student walks up to stand next to Arya and apologizes for interrupting, but Gendry smiles kindly at the student while he asks what he can do for her. Wordlessly, Arya backs away and walks to her desk. 

 

Whilst consumed with the storm in her mind, Arya doesn’t notice when Podrick sits down in the desk next to hers. When he gently nudges her after his greetings went ignored, she slaps his finger away and tells him to sit somewhere else. He looks around the room and tells her he can’t move now, all the seats are taken. She rolls her eyes in response. 

 

Class begins shortly, and Gendry is as enthralling as he normally is while introducing a new topic this week on Westerosi weapons mentioned in fabled prophecies. To everyone else in this room she’s sure they think nothing is amiss with their professor. But Arya knows better. She can see the tension he carries in his shoulders; his voice not as light. They don’t make eye contact throughout the entire class, which is a first. And it’s not for lack of trying on Arya’s part. As class winds down, Gendry begins handing out everyone’s graded reports. He begins to make his way down her aisle and her heart races. Before he approaches her desk, he looks beyond the crisp papers in his arm and sees her and Podrick sitting next to each other. His expression darkens just a tad. Arya looks up at him with wide, pleading eyes but he ignores them and drops her report on her desk instead of handing it to her opened hand. He does the same to Podrick before making his way down the aisle. 

 

They’ve teased each other and have gotten into heated debates. They’ve irritated one another and yeah, even pissed each other off a couple of times. This, however, feels different. It’s uncomfortable, like being suddenly submerged in ice water. Arya doesn’t understand what happened in the small space of time between his amused reply to her proposed topic for debate and the moment he suddenly looked displeased after practically eye fucking her. But she is determined to find out. 

 

He dismisses class, and everyone stands up immediately except for Arya. She takes her time sliding her things back into her bookbag without looking, dodging her head left and right to catch sight of Gendry in between moving students. Podrick, of course, notices.

 

“What, not happy with your grade? Didn’t get a 200%?” 

 

Arya cuts her eyes up at Podrick as he stands next to her desk, both hands wrapped around the straps of his book bag. She usually has to rush from this class to go to her next one that is inconveniently on the other side of the university. 

 

“I want to talk to him about my report,” Arya grumbles as she begins to stand. She’s lost sight of Gendry as a group of students pass his desk slowly to head out the door. She refuses to look at Podrick, so he thankfully takes a hint. 

 

“See you tomorrow in Metalwork?” Podrick asks, making his way to the door.

 

“Yeah…” Arya answers in a small, distant voice, her eyes zeroed in on Gendry now that the students have passed his desk. He’s smiling brightly from his chair up at a very pretty female professor she recognizes. And the female professor has the audacity to _giggle_ and bend forward at the waist to touch his shoulder as she continues to laugh at whatever he just said. 

 

Arya’s hands clench into tight fists, slightly shaking from the strength of the grasp, and she wrenches her eyes back to the direction of the door and walks out.

 

••

 

Professor Worthington’s tits are nearly about to pop out of her low cut jumper and into his face but Gendry’s focused on Arya’s sexy, determined strut and the jiggle of her round ass as she strides out the classroom door, head held high. It takes him a second to refocus on his colleague and politely decline her invitation to lunch, _again_ , because he needs to tend to an issue with the forge before his next class. She begrudgingly accepts but only after making him promise they’ll go to lunch next week. He gives her a polite smile and nod as confirmation. 

 

Later while walking towards the smithy, Gendry’s mood is dark as he reflects on staring Arya down earlier and the bruises and faint scrapes he saw on her knees where her fishnets had large rips, exposing the damaged skin. They looked fresh, recent. Gendry may be a bit bullheaded and stubborn sometimes. He’s been accused, mostly by Arya, of being stupid from time to time but he’s a man-not a green boy. He’s seen bruises like that before on the knees of ex-girlfriends and a couple of previous conquests. Arya’s bruises looked like she had been on her knees over the weekend. Quite possibly sucking Podrick off. 

 

When Gendry arrived to work early today, he tried stilling his mind before class by absently re-reading a student’s report, not actually absorbing the words before Arya’s voice disrupted the silence of the classroom when she found him. She was the exact reason why he had been re-reading the same paragraph for the last twenty minutes; he was anxious to see her and gauge where they stood. The topic she offered for debate and the fact that she even gave a shit about which sword fighting style was more exceptional made his cock harden instantly, and he knew immediately with relief that she wasn’t insulted or put off by his forwardness last week. 

 

After swivelling around to face her and seeing her for the first time, his cock began to leak embarrassingly. He had never seen her dressed so provocative before, and he had to dig deep to stop the assault of fantasies invading his mind of what he would love to do to her right now dressed like that. 

 

When his eyes lingered on her knees, that hot coal burning low in his belly was doused with images of her standing up on her knees on the hard surface of a pup hallway, Podrick’s hand instead of his own on the back of her head, guiding her. 

 

At that moment with cold determination, he resigned himself to the knowledge that this woman would never be his in any fashion, no matter how many times she shows up to his class dressed like that to entice him. Another man has claimed her. And he has no business or right to claim her in the first place. So he did exactly what he feared he would do, he began to act distant but also unexpectedly, cold. 

 

Tending to an issue with the forge was code for _I need to beat the shit out of metal while no one else is there or else I’m going to murder that twat who has touched my woman_. Forty minutes have passed, and Gendry can’t recognize what he’s making, he’s just been pounding his hammer down on the metal with every ounce of his strength and speed. Sweat is pouring down his face, his white tank soaked through and muscles visible through the nearly translucent fabric; this time he took his button-down shirt off completely. Maybe if he had done that last Friday, Arya would have left Podrick high and dry, he thinks to himself. Chest heaving, he stops his fierce hammering to catch his breath when he feels his cell phone vibrate in his back pocket. He quickly dunks the misshapen metal into a bucket of water and leaves it in there; there are no plans to salvage the piece. After wiping his hand on a nearby rag, he digs his phone out and sees an email alert sent to his school address. 

 

 **From: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **To: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **Subject: Tuesday.**  

 

 _Professor Baratheon,_  

 

 _I will be unable to attend Metalwork class on Tuesday._  

 

 _Arya Stark_  

 

She’s never missed class before, not even when she was deathly ill, and everyone in the smithy was angry and yelling at her, holding dirty rags to their faces to avoid catching her plague. Gendry can’t shake the feeling he’s somehow responsible for her upcoming absence. He feels guilt mixed with other emotions he shouldn’t be feeling. He writes back. 

 

 **To: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **From: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **Subject: Re: Tuesday**  

 

 _Arya,_  

 

 _No worries, we’re going to be spending more time on how to shape horseshoes since everyone else seems to be struggling with it, except for you, of course._  

 

 _Professor Gendry Baratheon_  

 

She doesn’t write back. He assumes he won’t be seeing her tonight during open lab either and ends up proven correct. As promised, she doesn’t attend class on Tuesday, and her absence is felt, much more so than he anticipated. An hour after class ends, he can’t ignore the twitch of his fingers any longer and reaches for his phone to email her. 

 

 **To: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **From: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **Subject: Wednesday**  

 

 _Arya,_  

 

 _Will you be attending History of Weaponry tomorrow? Hope everything is okay._  

 

 _Professor Gendry Baratheon_  

 

Arya doesn’t write back, and she doesn’t show up to class the next morning or to open lab later. Now he’s worried. His concern outweighs his petty jealousy and the need to distance himself from her.

 

 **To: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **From: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**  

 **Subject: Important.**  

 

 _Arya,_  

 

 _I hope you’re okay. Please let me know. You’ve missed two classes and a lot of lab hours, and I just wanted to make sure that everything is okay._  

 

 _Let me know._  

 

 _Gendry_  

 

She doesn’t write back, and she doesn’t walk through the door to the smithy on Thursday for Classic Metalwork, no matter how hard Gendry’s mind wills her to be there. 

 

••

 

Arya is standing in line ordering a cup of coffee at a local shop around the corner from uni. While she waits for the barista to punch in the order, the person behind her orders a cuppa over her shoulder and tells them to put hers on his card. 

 

“Podrick,” she sighs as she turns around to face him. 

 

“Hey, where’ve you been?”

 

“Been sick.”

 

“You feeling better now?”

 

“ _Yesss,_ ” Arya hisses, impatient with him already. 

 

They move out of the way to wait for their drinks. She crosses her arms across her chest.

 

“I like the new look,” Podrick nods at her loose flowing sleeveless tunic, the same black denim shorts she wore a week ago today to seduce her professor and failed, but this time instead of fishnets she’s wearing black stockings that have still been well worn; rips and tears scattered down her athletic legs. 

 

Arya glances down at herself. “Ah, thanks. Honestly, just haven’t felt like doing laundry.” 

 

“Yeah, so what did you have? You missed _so_ many classes-“

 

“I missed three. Just a bad fucking cold, whatever, drop it,” Arya reaches for her coffee. 

 

She was healthier than she had ever been, but it was her ego she had to take time away from school to nurse. Before last Monday, Arya had never before put effort into charming a guy or dressing up for one. And regardless of the spinning hamster wheel of the same warnings and reminders that played regularly in her mind whenever it came to Gendry, she dressed up for him because even though she’s never put forth the effort with guys before, that doesn’t mean she’s _had_ to. She’s had plenty of guys chat her up, some of which were more successful than others. And she knows the look of lust well. 

 

She saw that look in Gendry’s eyes that night. 

 

But now it was obvious to her that he must be dating that professor she saw him talking to. Still, it wouldn’t explain the copious amount of personal notes and a couple of inside jokes written along the worn edges of her report Gendry handed back to her. 

 

Arya’s two classes with Gendry are on opposite days, meaning she hasn’t seen him in a full week now. In the past, she still managed to see him even on holiday breaks in the smithy when they would keep it open for students working on end of the semester projects. She ignored his emails, burrowed too deep in her feelings. She was angry, jealous, mortified. And she felt betrayed even though she knew it wasn’t rational. On Sunday evening she weighed whether or not she was ready to see him again in History class, but as she walked towards the building the class is held, her legs carried her elsewhere at the last minute. 

 

Which is why she finds herself now standing in front of Podrick, cup of coffee in hand. 

 

She checks her phone for the time. “What are you doing not in class?” History of Weaponry class was about to end in 10 minutes.

 

“Eh, I’m not going in there. I’m avoiding ‘im.” 

 

Arya looks puzzled. “Why’s that?”

 

“He was in a right fucking foul mood last week while you were gone. And he treated me like absolute shit, yelling at me in front of everyone, kept calling me names when I accidentally knocked over a bucket of water in the forge. Made me stay late and clean all the tools. I don’t know,” Podrick sighs heavily. “I wish you had been there to cheer him up. He always seems happy when you’re around. But then again, so am I,” he winks at her. 

 

She can’t help the eye roll. But she’s thankful for this information because it’s breathed life back into a tiny spark that she felt had been extinguished indefinitely. 

 

“Hey, why aren’t you in class?” Podrick asks. 

 

“Uh, had a doctor’s appointment. I’ll catch you later.” Arya departs and heads over to the building where she should have been over an hour ago. Class is over now, but Gendry always stays behind going over notes and any turned in assignments. She’s never been able to stick around because she has another class after but she’s skipping everything again today. Podrick’s words echo in her mind, making her limbs tingle with anticipation, excitement, and dread. What she’s about to do, there will be no coming back from it. So she hopes her gut is right. 

 

Arya walks undetected down the empty hallway. Her head is on a swivel, checking left and right into each classroom she passes and sees everyone has gone to enjoy lunch outdoors in the unseasonably warm weather. She reaches the door to his classroom that is slightly ajar to allow the spring breeze in through the opened windows and glides in silently. Gendry’s head is down typing on his laptop. 

 

“Why have you been shitty to Podrick?” Arya’s voice breaks the silence. His head whips up to see her, and at first, he looks relieved; a happy expression graces his face at the sight of her, and she doesn’t miss the way his eyes travel over her legs clad in ripped black stockings. But then he furrows his eyebrows together and leans back in his chair. 

 

“Where have you been, Arya? You’ve missed four classes total, two in each. What’s been going on?”

 

She walks closer towards the front of his desk. “I was sick. Why did you yell at Podrick in front of everyone?” Her voice is inquisitive with a slight edge. 

 

Gendry ignores her question. “Why didn’t you write me back to let me know?” He’s starting to sound annoyed.

 

She doesn’t care. “Was too ill to. Did you really make Podrick stay late and clean all the tools after knocking over a bucket of water? After I’ve done the same and nothing happened to me?” Arya is now standing in front of his desk looking down at him, a slight scowl on her face.

 

He sits up at that, and now he looks pissed. “ _He did a lot more than that_ ,” is his husky, bitter reply. “You know you’ve missed a lot of material.”

 

Arya shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t care.”

 

“You don’t _care_ ,” Gendry repeats with an eyebrow raised. 

 

“Why did-“

 

He interrupts her. “Why do you care so much about Podrick all of a sudden? One date and he’s, what, swept you off your feet? Going to be a kept woman now? Here only to get your M.R.S. degree, is that it?” Gendry’s tone is sarcastic and shitty and it makes Arya snap. Suddenly she sweeps all the items off his desk with an arc of her arm and before books, loose papers, a coffee mug and his laptop crash down to the floor, she has sprung up and landed with her knees on the top of his desk, resting forward on her palms and looking at him dead in the eye, only inches separating them. 

 

“Why do you care so much about whether Podrick has swept me off of my feet when you have a woman who is demanding so much of your time that you didn’t have a moment to grade reports until the last minute? Or was she angry because you spent all night paying my report more attention than you were paying her? Why was _my_ report so much more interesting than that woman of yours?” Arya hisses. There’s a beat where they stare at each other, letting her words marinate. 

 

That dangerous glint is back in Gendry’s eye that she saw for the first time in the smithy. He leans forward slightly and asks her in a deep, low voice, “So you think you can mess up my classroom and my mind, Stark?” 

 

Arya doesn’t hesitate with her response. “I suspect by the way you eye fucked me as soon as I walked in that I made a mess of your mind a long time ago.”

 

And suddenly he fucking _lunges_ forward, grabs the back of her head roughly and kisses her with a fierce desperation that she’s never been on the receiving end of before. Her hand immediately grabs his shirt and wraps her fist around it to tug him closer as their lips repeatedly smash against each other, tongues now warring for dominance. His fingers delve into her locks to grab a handful of hair at the nape of her neck and gently pulls, making Arya moan louder than she’s ever heard herself before. Before she can register what’s happening, Gendry pulls back swiftly at the noise, panting, and they stare at one another with wide eyes. Coffee seeps into the rug, papers are littered with coffee stains, his laptop screen is cracked on the floor, but still, they stare at one another with his hand wrapped around the back of her head and her hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos, I greatly appreciate every single one! 
> 
> This chapter picks up directly where chapter 3 left off.
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
> 
> [ALMCIYV Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gctWzLG3y8ij2vAAMZoSF)
> 
> **Follow me for sneak peeks, updates and more!**
> 
> [Tumblr](https://moonstruckandkissedinsane.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/fallon.corinne/)
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FallonWCorinne)

 

**_Monday, 15 April 2019_ **

 

Their warm breath mingles in the small space between them as Arya stares into his eyes and sees a different man looking back at her. She sees no trace of Professor Baratheon, her mentor. The invisible yet vital wall of professional decorum has crumbled, but cracks emerged in the foundation long before this moment. It’s been seven months since she became his student. And hundreds of hours spent in class and in the smithy, sometimes unnecessarily just to be in the same room as him, to glean as much information about the man who has enraptured her since the first day of uni. And now finally, at this very moment, Arya gazes into his sky blue eyes and sees _Gendry_ for the first time. The man she has longed to know and have intimately outside the social confines of higher education.

 

The fabric of his button-down is still twisted in her grasp. Gendry’s eyes glance back down at her lips, and she doesn’t hesitate in pulling him roughly back to her. He follows willingly and opens his lips in anticipation for her velvet tongue, cupping the back of her head to hold her firmly in place. Arya plunders his mouth with vigour, taking advantage of every nanosecond the universe has graced her with to thoroughly indulge in this moment. Gendry seems to have the same goal in mind, while he begins to gently tug again at the hair gathered near the nape of her neck in his fist, drawing another low groan from deep in her throat and matches it with one of his own. His moan spurs her on excitedly as her kisses become rather sloppy, which encourages Gendry to reach his other hand up to caress one of her knees still resting on the surface of his desk. His hand is so large that it not only covers her knee but also the top expanse of her thigh. Softly at first, he grips the firm muscle under his hand, then starts to dig his fingertips into the scattered tears of her black stockings to touch the flesh beneath, drawing a gasp from her that he swallows with his lips and tongue.

 

Arya is acutely aware of just how soaked her knickers are and worries for a moment if he’ll be able to see the spreading wet spot at the apex of her shorts. She also hears laughter far in the distance, echoing down hallways. Knowing professors and students alike will return shortly, Arya allows herself a few more precious moments with him before reluctantly slowing down the urgency of their kisses. Before she pulls away, she playfully nips at his full bottom lip, then soothes it with one last soft kiss.

 

She lets go of his shirt and starts to slowly crawl away from him off his desk, his hand still resting on her thigh. His eyes are still closed as his lips chase after hers before realizing she’s moving away. Dazed, Gendry opens his eyes and stares at her, fingers still entwined in the strands of her hair. Hesitantly he removes his hands from her thigh and back of her head but not before leisurely allowing his fingers to drag down her smooth neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake and forcing Arya’s eyes to break their intense eye contact when her eyelids flutter closed at the feeling. It takes every ounce of will power she possesses not to immediately straddle his lap. Instead, she scoots back and jumps off the desk, staring intensely at him once more. She pauses for a moment to take him in; his dishevelled shirt, rising chest as he catches his breath, a blush creeping up his neck under his collar and piercing blue eyes she can barely make out for how dilated they are.

 

“I’m not dating Podrick,” Arya informs him in a soft voice raspy with desire before turning around and walking out, leaving him to deal with the mess that, in his words, she’s made of his desk and mind. She doesn’t dare chance a glance over her shoulder; nerves have finally caught up with her at the magnitude of what has just occurred.

 

Precisely two minutes later, she is walking as quickly as possible out of the building and into the sunshine when her phone chimes. Arya digs it out of her back pocket, and her legs and heart stop when she sees an email alert from one Professor Gendry Baratheon.

 

**To: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**From: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**Subject: no subject**

 

_I’m not either._

 

Immediately a second email comes through.

 

**To: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**From: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**Subject: Re: no subject**

 

_Not Podrick, of course. I meant…at all. In general._

 

Arya clutches her phone with shaking hands and a racing heart, re-reading eleven simple words that will alter her future and begins to grin. “Stupid bull,” she whispers to herself with a smile.

 

•••

 

Gendry presses _Send_ on his second email to Arya, or at least he hopes he hit _Send_. It’s difficult to tell what with the new multiple fractures on his laptop’s screen. The rug is still wet with coffee and littered with papers, folders, and books. It took Gendry several seconds to gather himself after watching Arya’s proud strut out of the classroom, in which the confidence in her posture made him achingly hard. Still, he could tell her nerves betrayed her in the rapidness of her pace. He immediately retrieved the laptop off the floor and shook it a couple of times to release it of drips of coffee and shards of broken glass. With trembling fingers, he navigated to his email browser because even though he didn’t respond immediately to Arya’s confession due to being absolutely gobsmacked at having just thoroughly explored her sweet lips and tongue for the first time, he’ll be damned if he lets this day end without her knowing that he, too, is completely single. He rubs both hands down his face anxiously, hoping the email went through and that she understands what he meant. He tried to keep it as cryptic as possible since he used their school email addresses. An email alert chimes on his laptop and he leans forward immediately to check it.

 

**To: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**From: tworthington1583@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**Subject: Lunch!**

 

_Professor Baratheon,_

 

_You owe me lunch, sir, and I won’t take another rain check! Are you available tomorrow afternoon? I’d like to discuss with you about a potential project we can work on together involving our respective students coming together for an end of semester project._

 

_Let me know!_

_Professor Worthington_

 

“Aw fuckin’ hell,” Gendry mutters under his breath. It doesn’t appear that the voluptuous and overtly flirtatious Professor Worthington has forgotten about making him promise to reschedule lunch last week. He’s rescheduled five times already. The first time she asked him to lunch was a few months ago after she first started working for the History department, and he initially took her up on the offer since he knew it could be quite intimidating being a new professor at such a prestigious university. That was until another colleague chuckled after overhearing about his lunch plans, telling him he ought to bring condoms with him because she had already seduced one of the younger professors from the History department. After that revelation, he has continued to come up with excuses to get out of lunch, but this is the first time she’s suggested a work-related matter to discuss. Not wanting to potentially tick off the head of the department Dr Tobho Mott if Professor Worthington indeed does have a work project she wants to talk with him about and to avoid her potentially complaining on him if he were to dismiss her again, Gendry writes back agreeing to noon tomorrow after his Classic Metalwork class. Regardless of whether he found Professor Worthington attractive or not _(he isn’t blind, but again, he needs a woman with a bite and snarl)_ , Gendry has a firm policy with himself to never date or cross boundaries with coworkers.

 

Which he recognizes at this moment is entirely ludicrous considering the scent of his student Arya’s arousal is still lingering heavily in his nose. His eyes glaze over instantly at the reminder of her supporting herself on her knees atop of his desk, thighs spread scandalously apart before him and his nose honing immediately on the delicate musky smell of female wetness. Gendry readjusts his throbbing cock in his slacks and can’t help the subtle subconscious stroke he gives himself under the desk to ease the tension that only worsens it.

 

Before he can escape into his daydream that is now a bonafide _memory_ , another email alert chimes from his worse for wear laptop.

 

**To: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**From: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**Subject: Re: Re: no subject**

 

_Well then. That’s a relief to hear. (for multiple reasons)_

_See you tonight in open lab? I have a lot of lost time to make up for._

 

_Arya_

 

Gendry begins to grin larger than he has since…before Arya stopped showing up to class. A slew of flirtatious banter flies through his head as he goes to respond to her email, but he has to remind himself to keep it copasetic so as not to raise suspicions. But he can’t help being just a tad bit improper.

 

**To: astark0567@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**From: gbaratheon9823@londonroyaluniversity.edu**

**Subject: Re: Re: Re: no subject**

 

_Yes. Yes, you do have a lot of time to make up for. I’ll see to it this evening that you make up for your copious missed lab hours, young lady._

 

_Gendry_

 

••

 

Arya arrived at the smithy thirty minutes early, anxious to see Gendry again. She poured over his last email repeatedly this afternoon when she returned to her empty flat and furiously rode her dildo, imagining herself bouncing up and down on his cock in the seat at his desk. She imagined him reprimanding her for missing class in that low, gravelly voice he used when he told her Podrick did more than what he was accused of for his punishment. Now, after months of masturbating to thoughts of her professor, she can imagine a little clearer what it would be like to fuck him after their delightfully unexpected passionate kisses this morning that she still can’t believe actually happened.

 

It was now five minutes past, and so far no one else had arrived yet, including the lab technician, which concerned her because usually open lab wasn’t allowed unless a tech was available for the shift. She continually refreshes her phone for any news, but the WiFi and signal are spotty at this end of the building, and nothing comes up until twelve after. An email from Professor Gendry Baratheon sent twenty minutes ago to all students of Classic and Advanced Metalwork courses that open lab hours were cancelled tonight due to an issue with the forge but with a promise it would be back up and running in no time. Arya lets out a heavy sigh that turns into a frustrated growl and stomps her foot.

 

“Hello there, little wolf,” Gendry saunters up to the locked entranced of the smithy.

 

Arya whips her head over to him, so lost in her disappointment that she hadn’t heard him walking up. “Little wolf?” she tilts her head with a smug smile, endeared by the nickname.

 

“Well, you certainly looked like a wolf when you leapt on my desk this morning,” Gendry explains above a whisper with a devilish smile as he fishes for the keys in his pocket.

 

A slow grin spreads on her face, and she bashfully ducks her head for a moment as she leans against the wall next to the door.

 

“I should thank you for destroying my laptop, by the way. It was old as fuck, and I hated it. Brought it to IT this afternoon and they issued me a new Macbook, so thanks.”

 

“So I’m to avoid punishment then?” Arya can’t help but bait him.

 

“I didn’t say anything about that,” Gendry raises a stern eyebrow at her.

 

A blush starts to flush her face. She shakes her phone in his direction.

 

“Says here that open lab is cancelled.”

 

“And you showed up anyway,” he replies with a smirk.

 

Arya knows they made out this morning and she made her intentions quite clear to him but she can’t help but give him sass.

 

“I showed up early and have a shitty connection in this building, so I just got your email,” she cuts her eyes playfully at him. “What makes you think I would have still shown up if I had gotten it earlier?”

 

Gendry unlocks and opens the door for her, stepping to the side. As she walks through the threshold, Gendry places a gentle hand on the small of her back, lightly guiding her in, and leans over her shoulder to tell her in a new, authoritative voice she’s never heard from him before, _“Because you knew you’d be punished for missing more lab hours and destroying school property if you didn’t.”_ Arya’s cunt throbs at his words and the gentle hover of his hand on her lower back.

 

He walks around her in prep mode. She feels oddly shy as she deposits her book bag on her workstation and watches as he wordlessly starts the forge. Once the fire roars to life, Arya begins to second guess wearing this tight, form-fitting hoodie she chose to show off her curves on this chilly spring evening but it’s too tight to wear with a tank or shirt underneath. Sweat begins to pool between her breasts. All she’s wearing underneath is a bra, so the best she can do is roll the sleeves up and lower the zipper a bit until a hint of cleavage is exposed. As she does so, Gendry catches her attention when he shucks off his leather jacket and pulls his shirt up over his head to reveal a black tank underneath. Arya can’t help but stare at the rippling muscles of his arms and shoulders that are already covered in a sheen of sweat. He usually wears an old worn-out t-shirt in the smithy, so this feels deliberate. Arya bites the side of her lip as she feels her second pair of knickers of the day flood with arousal.

 

Eventually, Gendry turns back towards her. “Right then,” he announces with a loud clap of his hands and begins gathering metal and tools for last week’s assignment that she missed. “Did you bother to read the emails I sent out regarding the new assignment?” Gendry asks as he stands across from her, laying out supplies.

 

“Can’t say I did,” Arya replies.

 

 _“Cheek,”_  he playfully chides her. “Were you that sick, then?” His voice sounds concerned.

 

Arya swallows thickly, not knowing exactly how to navigate this. “A bit, maybe.”

 

“Mysterious,” he deadpans.

 

“You’re one to talk.”

 

“Me?” Gendry baulks, coming around to her side of the table and handing her a couple of small blades he made for a practice demo last week.

 

“Yes, _you_. Last time I saw you before this morning, one minute you were eye fucking me and the next you were practically telling me to fuck off.” Arya’s voice is calm and even despite her racing heart while studying the delicate blades in her hand. She figures if he arranged it so that they could be here alone together in the smithy tonight, then she might as well get some answers.

 

“Is that why you didn’t come to class?” There’s regret in his voice as he turns towards her.

 

Arya stares up at him then, a bit of fire and fight back in her eyes at being reminded of seeing him with that pretty professor’s tits nearly shoved in his face and his friendly demeanour with the woman versus his severe reaction to her.

 

“It may have had something to do with that and that blonde twit of a professor I assumed you were dating.”

 

The fire in her at the memory dies out when she sees the guilty look on his face.

 

“I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have acted that way, I’m-“ Gendry looks away. He takes a deep breath before looking back down into her eyes.

 

“When I saw those bruises on your knees after the weekend I thought that you had gone out with Podrick, I assumed…” he trails off, too embarrassed to say it out loud.

 

Recognition dawns on her face. Her eyebrows lift gently, and her plump lips form a soft _oh_.

 

“They’re from deadlifts and cleans.”

 

Gendry’s eyebrows screw up. “As in weightlifting?”

 

“Yeah. I train to make my legs stronger for fencing.”

 

“Fencing?!”

 

“You’re learning all sorts of new things today, aren’t you?” Arya winks at him.

 

Before he can respond, another thought crosses her mind, and a shy smile begins to form.

 

“And that made you jealous,” she states, rather than asks, referring back to his initial reaction to seeing her bruises.

 

That heat she saw earlier this morning is returning in his eyes.

 

“You could say that.” His jaw clenches.

 

“It made you _really_ jealous,” Arya whispers, looking deeply into his eyes, searching.

 

Gendry looks down at her, confused. “Why _wouldn’t_ it make me jealous?”

 

She swallows, and her eyes widen at how he phrases the question. Regardless of the fact that he literally lunged at her to kiss her fiercely this morning, Arya’s mind still has a hard time processing that he actually wants her back. It delights her that he openly admits to being jealous of the idea of her giving her classmate a blowjob instead of him.

 

“Because you’re… _you_ ,” Arya emphasizes with her eyes scanning him openly.

 

“And you’re _you_ ,” Gendry’s voice is husky, and it makes the hairs on her arms stand up. He sees excitement mixed with doubt crossing her features, and it inspires him to move closer towards her.

 

“Have I hidden it that well how much I want you?” Gendry’s voice drops lower. All she can do is breathe deeply and stare at his eyes that are dark with lust. He takes another step closer to her until she can feel the heat radiating from his body.

 

“You think I don’t pay attention to the way you snap back your welding helmet, how you spread your legs into a lunge when you’re hammering at the anvil, the delicate and masterful way you swing my practice swords?” He runs his fingertips gently down the side of her face closest to her jaw and tucks a stray hair behind her ear. “No wonder you handle them with such grace. You’re full of surprises, Stark.”

 

Arya remains silent save for her breathing that is turning into a pant as Gendry steps slowly behind her and drags his fingertips down her exposed left forearm, starting where the sleeve of her hoodie is rolled up, until he reaches her hand and grips it, his large hand covering her's entirely.

 

“You think I had honourable intentions every time I made an excuse to come up behind you to hold your hammering hand during a demo?” Gendry’s other hand grips her right hip and suddenly pulls her flush back against him, making her sharply gasp.

 

“And every single time, I wanted to pull you close just like this,” he whispers against her sweaty neck, nosing his way past strands of dark hair sticking to her. Arya pants in earnest now. The hand on her hip is rubbing along the waistband of her tight jeans experimentally. She reaches behind her to grab the back of his head to push his face closer into her neck, which elicits a kiss from his lips on the delicate skin where her neck meets shoulder. She shivers in his grasp.

 

“And then? After you pulled me close? What did you want to do to me then?” Arya whispers breathily.

 

Gendry’s fingers continue to play with the waistband while the hand covering hers moves up to toy with the zipper tab currently above the mound of her breasts. Her chest heaves in anticipation.

 

He begins to ever so slowly pull on the zipper. “I wanted to run my hands up your shirt or down your dungarees. And touch your full, perky tits you try to hide behind those baggy clothes.” The zipper’s slow descent is loud in the quiet smithy. Heat consumes Arya’s loins as she feels a gush of fresh arousal leak into her jeans. Her upper back is connected flush against his defined chest, but their lower halves aren’t. That is until she pushes her ass firmly back against him, connecting solidly with what she can tell is his rather large erection. The action makes her gasp and Gendry groan loudly. He buries his face further into her neck, smearing open mouth kisses along her throat. The zipper’s descent begins to quicken after that until Arya feels warm air hit the sweaty flesh of her torso. Gendry gives up on the zipper by the time it reaches her belly button, his rough hand covered in hard-earned calluses flying up to palm her generous tit over her black lace bra. He looks down over her shoulder and sees how she fills the cups of her bra abundantly, her pink hardened nipples nearly poking out over the low cut tops. His fingers dip into the cup that covers her breast and squeezes her sensitive nipple between two digits. Arya moans and arches her back to push her breast further into his hand while also pressing her ass harder into his covered hard cock.

 

“I can’t imagine that’s where your fantasy ends,” Arya whispers as she leans her head back to look at him. Gendry licks his bottom lip and tweaks her nipple until a delicious squeak turned gasp escapes her lips. She leans on her toes to try to reach his lips, but he stops her by pushing his forehead down against hers. He takes a ragged breath before speaking.

 

“No, it doesn’t. But that all depends on how far you’re willing to go to learn how it ends,” Gendry whispers back. He’s openly discussing how far she’s willing to be physically intimate with him and it makes her lustful and soft for him all at once. And also terrified and ecstatic. Arya’s mouth feels dry when she answers him.

 

“I want to know exactly how it ends,” she says just above a whisper before tilting her head up and kissing him. He’s still holding her possessively from behind, one hand on her hip and the other now on her neck with his fingers along her jaw, turning her face towards him to deepen the kiss. Before the kiss gets overheated, Arya pulls her lips away and grabs his wrist that’s holding her jaw.

 

“But there’s something you should know first,” she breathes against his lips, eyes closed. She never honestly thought she’d ever be in this position with him, despite wishing of nothing else for months. Arya doesn’t suspect it would be a problem for him, but he could end up being the honourable type. Though that seems laughable in this situation.

 

Gendry tenses his hold on her, and she reckons he must think she’s about to tell him it’s not Podrick she’s dating but rather someone else.

 

“I’m a virgin,” she rushes out in one breath. “Well, technically.”

 

She opens her eyes again, and his eyebrows are raised.

 

“Technically?” he repeats.

 

“I’ve…never had sex before, but I use dildos all the time so _technically_ -“

 

“You’re not a virgin, except _that you are_ ,” Gendry squints his eyes at her and smiles.

 

“Right,” she sighs.

 

“How much have you…done?”

 

Arya blushes, not sure whether out of embarrassment for the lack of things she’s done or for the things she has that she’s about to admit to Gendry.

 

“I’ve never given a blowjob on my knees…but I have in the back of a car,” she pushes back against him for emphasis and to check to see if he’s still interested. _Yep_ , he is.

 

She hears him swallow. “And was the favour returned?”

 

“No.”

 

“I’ll have to rectify that then,” Gendry suggests but his eyes tell her it’s a promise.

 

Arya looks dazedly at his lips, knowing already how much pleasure they bring to just her mouth and neck.

 

“And the other thing? Will you rectify that too?” she implores, eyes pleading with his.

 

Gendry’s fingers dig deep into her hip, drawing pain and pleasure. He grinds his cock against her round, firm ass.

 

“I will gladly relieve you of your virginity, Arya,” he promises her huskily. She melts against him, overcome with lust. “But it won’t be tonight. I want to take my time with you, if you'll let me. I have a lot of fantasies starring you I'd like to explore,” he whispers while caressing the side of her face before leaning down to kiss her sweetly. The kiss instantly becomes passionate as Gendry slides his hand down her throat and over her cleavage, slipping his entire hand into the cup of the bra and squeezing her naked breast, making her mewl. He wrenches his lips away from hers and resumes his attack on her neck; licking, sucking, and biting along the column of her throat. His end of the day scruff scratches her delicate skin deliciously.

 

“You’ll need more warm-up practice with your dildos before I fuck you anyhow,” Gendry tells her with a wolfish grin. Arya is delirious with pleasure, but his comment snags her attention through the fog. Even though he’s pressed behind her and they’re both wearing jeans, she can tell already he has a huge cock. Still, she can’t resist teasing him.

 

“I don’t know, I have some impressive dildos,” she taunts breathily.

 

He undoes the top button to her jeans. “Have any of them bottomed out in you?”

 

Arya’s attention is on too many things at once, so the question confuses her.

 

“What do you mean?” she breathes out.

 

Gendry pulls down her zipper and gently slides two fingers into her pants, gliding over her panty covered mound.

 

“Do they ever hit you _all the way in the back_ , in that sweet spot?” His fingers trail further into her pants until at last, they slide against slick cotton.

 

Arya gasps when she feels his fingers touching her pussy for the first time through her saturated knickers. “Ye-yes, sometimes if I have the right angle and work hard for it.”

 

She feels his chuckle vibrate through her back. Gendry moves his hand to the left and right, trying to make room to burrow further into her pants so he can slip a finger underneath the band of her knickers.

 

“Do you like that feeling when you’re able to hit that spot?” His fingers are moist already just from touching the surface of her knickers. He’s about to find out just out wet he’s made her.

 

Arya nods her head in the affirmative quickly and then sharply inhales.

 

 _“Then you’re really going to enjoy fucking me,”_  is Gendry’s promise as his fingers sneak their way underneath the elastic of her knickers and slips against the slickest, most swollen folds he’s ever touched in his life. Both of their breathing turns laboured as Arya pulls down on the waistband of her jeans a bit to give him more access. With more room for his hand to move, he kicks his foot in between her legs to urge her to spread them a little wider for him. Once she does, he takes a slight step back to lean her against his body and look down at his hand stuffed into her jeans. Arya’s hands return to grab the back of his neck and to hold on to the forearm pressed against her bared, sweaty stomach. Gendry’s middle finger delicately traces her slit starting from the top and softly brushes over her swollen clit before plunging in between her folds till he reaches her tight opening; his entire digit and knuckles covered in her sweet wetness in the cocoon of her knickers. She tries to grind down into his hand to impale herself onto his finger, but he only allows the tip to circle the entrance before retreating back to glide slowly down her slit again starting from the top and brushing her clit again with more pressure this time, drawing out a long moan from Arya’s throat. She feels him buck against her ass at the sound, which makes her want his fingers stuffed completely inside her all the more.

 

Gendry seems to be getting impatient with his own teasing as well when suddenly he presses his finger harder down in between her swollen folds and inserts his finger one knuckle at a time until he’s reaching deep within her impossibly tight walls. Arya cries loudly at the sensation of him finally filling her, which prompts him to abandon plucking her beautiful pink nipples and wrap his free hand around her mouth to silence her. The act only makes her impossibly wetter, and she clenches down on his finger.

 

Arya doesn’t want to be silenced; she wants him to hear how much she wants this and the power he has over her body. But she also knows that they can’t risk getting caught since they’re not supposed to be here in the first place what with it being “closed” and also for the most obvious reason. Gendry’s hand doesn’t let up off her mouth, and Arya finds it makes her cunt ache even more. The idea of letting him control her pleasure and how she expresses it makes her blood hot, and she pushes back against his hard cock again, this time sliding her ass up and down his length. Gendry’s breath is ragged against her neck when he begins to fuck her with his finger, his hips reacting to her ministrations by mimicking the motion of his hand between her legs. She cries zealously into his hand, the sound muffled but appreciated all the same by Gendry, she can tell, when he leans them forward, pressing her against the workstation. He adds a second finger inside her, and from this angle he curls them deep and towards him, dragging roughly on her G-spot with the diligence of a man with copious experience, while he bucks his erection against her ass earnestly. Arya’s hands brace against the workstation, her back arched and neck tilted back from Gendry’s hand wrapped firmly around her mouth; her ass pulled tight against his hips as he continues to fuck her with his long, rough fingers. She’s been fingered before but never by a man’s hand. And the difference is telling. She’s embarrassingly close to orgasm. Her walls clenching even tighter around his fingers while the incredibly intimate and graphic sound of her wetness sloshing as he quickens his pace fills the atmosphere, along with their heavy breathing.

 

“Gendry-“ she muffles into his hand.

 

“Yeah?” he pants next to her ear.

 

“I’m gonna-“ Arya doesn’t get to finish her sentence because Gendry quickly bites down on her neck and finger fucks her harder and faster, _demanding_ this orgasm that is now ripping through her body, making her cry hoarsely into his hand until her throat feels raw. She’s still coming, waves of pleasure crashing over and over betwixt her legs when she feels his hips begin to roughly press into her ass. He’s sucking on her neck to soften the sounds of his own moans of release when she feels his hips still and a vague wet spot forming against the back of her jeans.

 

Gendry’s fingers are still shoved inside of her throbbing cunt as he leans against her back, both of them catching their breath leaning against the workstation. After a minute, Arya begins to turn to face him, which forces his fingers to retreat and slide up her silken lips before leaving her knickers absent of him. Her breath hitches in her throat at the sensation. She turns in the circle of his arms and places her shaking palms on his solid pecs and watches him bring his wet fingers to his mouth and lick her essence clean off each digit. Gendry does so with a look of total rapture on his face, eyes shut tight as he savours the taste of her and moans. Before he can clean off his thumb, Arya snatches his wrist and brings it to her lips, sucking her own arousal off while holding his gaze. She takes a moment to demonstrate what awaits him as she sucks his thumb with the precision of a woman who has brought pleasure with her mouth before. Gendry can’t take the sight any longer and drags his thumb down her bottom lip before crashing his lips to hers, tongue demanding entry to enjoy the taste of her together that is mingling on each other’s tongues.

 

After several minutes pass, their kisses turn from passionate to sweet and exploratory, depositing light kisses on each other’s faces while he holds her hips and she cups his face. The fire in the forge has died down considerably since it hasn’t been stoked since it was lit. Arya shivers a bit when the sweat once covering her begins to cool, making Gendry smile and reach for the bottom of her hoodie to zip it up for her. But not before laying gentle kisses over the tops of her breasts and along her collarbone. He then reaches down and zips her jeans up slowly and re-buttons the top button. The action is so intimate and affectionate, it makes Arya’s heart flutter for another reason entirely than what was causing it to race moments earlier.

 

Before she can lean forward again to recapture his lips, her phone starts ringing in her book bag. Arya groans in response but tilts her heads up to him anyway, trying to ignore whoever is calling. He gives her a soft, lingering kiss.

 

“You ought to get that, could be Podrick or another one of your many admirers,” Gendry grins at her. She rolls her eyes and gently pushes him away to walk around and end the offending noise. Arya stares at her phone a few seconds longer, texting back who called her.

 

“That was my sister, and she’s just had a major row with her cunt of a boyfriend, and now I must pick up the pieces,” Arya gives a long, regretful sigh. Gendry looks disappointed but gives her a sympathetic smile and walks over to wrap an arm around her shoulders and sling the other around her hips in a hug. She tucks her head under his chin, wrapping her arms around his lean yet muscular waist and it dawns on her that this is the very first hug they’ve ever shared.  _How completely backward,_  Arya thinks to herself fondly.

 

“I had a very lovely time during open lab with you this evening, Stark.” His voice is sweet and genuine. She nestles into his chest and hums in contentment.

 

“Me too. Though, I’m disappointed I didn’t get to return the favour,” Arya’s voice trails off as her hands begin to slide around to the front of his torso and her fingers trickle down towards the rebound erection that is starting to form. Gendry catches her hands before they land on their intended target.

 

“Don’t start something you don’t have time to finish,” his voice gravelly warns her. “Besides, you can return the favour next time. That’s been one of my many fantasies about you.”

 

“How many fantasies do you have about me?” Arya asks with smiling wonder in her eyes.

 

“Enough to keep us busy for a very long time,” he gives her a wink and a smile.

 

A blush and grin erupt over her face as she leans up on her toes to give him a long, deep kiss. Before long, he begrudgingly unwraps himself from her with an unhappy groan.

 

“You shouldn’t keep your sister waiting, her poor broken heart needs you.” Gendry entwines his fingers with hers. Despite having to leave, Arya feels elated with the easiness of which he touches her, and the affection felt behind every caress.

 

“Fine, I’m off to help that trollop. Before I go,” Arya steps around him to grab her phone again and returns, handing it to him. “Give me your number so I can taunt and harass you at all hours of the day.”

 

Gendry smiles widely and types away on her phone. After a few seconds, he hands it back to her and his own phone rings in his back pocket. He answers it to enter her contact info.

 

“Right then, I expect to be properly taunted and harassed, young lady,” he puts his phone away and grabs her face with both hands to give her one last searing kiss before she has to depart. She wants to ask him to walk her to her car, but she doesn’t want them to be potentially seen near the smithy together when it was supposed to be closed. Arya has no doubt he would offer-

 

“I want to walk you to your car,” he tells her as soon as his lips leave hers, leaving Arya still kissing the air. She opens her eyes and finds him walking away to grab his shirt and jacket.

 

“But what if-“

 

“I don’t care,” he tells her and by his tone and the look in his eyes when he shrugs his jacket back on, she knows he means it.

 

After he shuts down the forge and she grabs her book bag, they walk out of the smithy shoulder to shoulder until he reaches over to delicately take her small hand in his. Arya smiles brighter than she has in a long time. Once they reach the door, they both drop each other’s hand and walk in silence to her car. There are no other cars in the lot other than theirs. Arya expects him to say goodbye over his shoulder as he walks over to his car, but he surprises her by asking her for the keys to her car.

 

She doesn’t think twice and gives them to him, curious about what he intends to do. He unlocks her car for her with the electronic key, and as they approach the driver side door, he reaches for the handle and opens the door for her. None of the boys in secondary school or the lads she’s met at uni parties have ever done what Gendry just did. As she sinks into the seat, she assumes that this must be only one of many examples to come that show the difference between dealing with boys and a  _real_  man.

 

After getting settled, he hands her the keys and holds her hand for a few firm seconds. He smiles down at her as he closes the door. She rolls the window down.

 

“See you back here in the morning, then. Have a good night, Arya.”

 

“Have a good night, Gendry.” They hold each other’s gaze for a few extra seconds before he turns away.

 

Right before he reaches his car, she yells out the window, “I’d be wary of unsolicited texts you may receive tonight, Professor. I heard there is some sort of naughty text spam virus going around.”

 

The entirely _inappropriate-for-a-professor-to-look-at-a-student_  expression on his face he sends her over his shoulder makes her curse Sansa’s arsehole for a boyfriend. Arya grins wolfishly back at him as she pulls out of the lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haiiiii so I had a lot of fun with this chapter playing with actual screenshots of text messages between Arya and Gendry so expect a lot of images included in this!
> 
> And poor Podrick finally catches a break 😂
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
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Gendry peels the denim saturated from his earlier release down his legs and kicks them to the corner of his bathroom. Next comes the sticky boxer briefs, and as he looks down, he notices that he came a heavier load than usual into his pants against Arya’s perfect ass. Hoping none of it seeped through the back of her jeans, he can’t help but reflect that he hasn’t seen his underwear in such a messy state since he was a teenager waking up alone in his mum’s council estate.

 

He jumps into the shower once the water is warm enough and immediately begins to clean the remnants of his earlier unscrupulous behaviour off his hardening cock. It seems he’s unable and unwilling to stop the vivid loop playing in his head of him besmirching Arya’s honor in the smithy. Gendry can’t quite remember how he even got home, his brain on autopilot whilst driving and mind consumed with every lustful cry, gasp and moan he pulled from her. He could have easily spent all night in there with her, seizing as many orgasms as possible from her with his lips and tongue after he experienced the rare opportunity of tasting her on his fingers. She tasted fucking _divine_ ; sweet, fresh, and slightly tangy. He’d never tasted another female like her. Spurred on by the relentless memories of every single detail that transpired tonight, he rapidly gets himself off and makes quick work of washing up.

 

Gendry knows the guilt will eventually come and settle deep into the pit of his stomach, but he’s selfishly allowing himself to enjoy this moment in which he knows with certainty that Arya Stark fancies him back and wants him probably nearly as much as he wants and craves her. Not to mention, he has actually _touched_ her, _kissed_ her and brought her to fucking _orgasm_ under his hand tonight. Yeah, Gendry is going to savour this moment for as long as he can, morals and code be damned. All of his previous arguments for why he could never betray the sanctity of their professor-student relationship were shoved entirely out of his mind along with all the items that once stood on his desk and crashed to the floor. As soon as Arya admitted her jealousy over a nonexistent woman and challenged him on having mind-fucked him long ago, Gendry lost all will power and finally gave in to his base instincts. He’s known lust and passion, but what happened atop his desk was imbued with an intensity and longing, unlike anything he has ever experienced before.

 

Gendry has felt bewitched by Arya since meeting her seven months ago and has denied himself of sex for just as long. He didn’t notice at first, but eventually, it dawned on him. One day while staring at Arya turned away from him at the front of the forge, he realized it had been a while since he had been on a date. But it wasn’t for lack of offers. He also hadn’t been going out of his way to chat up women when he’d meet up with his mates at the pub. Two months without sex turned into four, then seven. Gendry has never wanked more in his life, and that includes when he was sixteen. He didn’t know whether he was subconsciously saving himself for Arya, waiting for this crush to die out or to hopefully eventually find Arya’s older doppelgänger who was like her in every way.

 

Now that he’s had a taste of her and a tiny preview of what it would be like to be her man, he has an alarming feeling that there isn’t a chance in hell that he will be able to go back to just being the professor she flirts and hangs out with during open lab.

 

Yes, the guilt will probably come when they’re both back in the smithy for Classic Metalwork class tomorrow morning, and he has to resume the role of professor. No matter how many times he insists to Arya to call him Gendry, he is still Professor Baratheon, and the fact remains that he instructs all of his other students to call him as such. Arya’s complete and utter consent and willingness to be touched by him notwithstanding, she’s still his student. But he’s not going down that rabbit hole tonight.

 

His phone chimes with three text alerts.

 

 

Gendry picks up his phone, smiling. He just left her an hour ago and is surprised to be hearing from her already, assuming she would be with her sister. 

 

 

When she doesn’t respond after a few seconds, he flings the towel off his hips and slides naked under the sheets of his bed, getting settled and turns the telly on low. The screen lights up with another text.

 

 

He weighs his options. Logic and reason tell him he’s playing with fire. He shouldn’t be texting her at all let alone sending her a dick pic, his conscience whispers to him through the haze of lust. _A bit far gone past that now though, innit?_ Gendry thinks to himself. If anyone is accustomed to fire, it’s Gendry. Holding his breath, he sends her a photo that he hopes she finds appealing.

 

 

He grins and starts flipping through the channels. 

 

 

He fully doesn’t expect her to send him an actual photo in return, but this is also unpredictable, mysterious Arya, his little wolf who fences and lifts weights and swept everything off his desk and leapt onto it as though she were about to claim him as prey or mate. She’s been continually surprising him for months now. 

 

Wait.

 

_His?_ he thinks to himself. When did he start thinking of Arya as _his_ little wolf?

 

 

The quiet mummer of the telly is disrupted by Gendry’s boisterous laughter. 

 

 

Gendry whimpers at the imagery of just how messy her pussy must have looked; her arousal had completely coated his hand while it was stuffed in her knickers. It fills him with male pride that Arya had been that sopping wet because of _him_. His cock starts to fill under the sheet, still not satisfied after two orgasms today. 

 

 

Gendry begins to imagine all the highly improper scenarios in which he can whisper the title she once loathed; into her ear, against her inner thigh, and between her shoulder blades as he fills her from behind. Before he can text back a lustful response with one hand as his other is currently gripping his cock, his phone chimes again.

 

 

His immediate instinct is to offer to drive them to and from the pub like a boyfriend would. The realization makes his gut roll with a slight thrill followed by apprehension. Doesn’t matter anyway, he can’t make the offer because he knows that her sister is also a student at the university so he definitely can’t risk it. But if it were an emergency, he knows he wouldn’t give a goddamn about propriety and go fetch her in a heartbeat. 

 

 

Gendry is getting irritated and can’t help his bullish stubborn tendencies when he presses _Send_ before re-reading his typed words. He knows that Arya isn’t dating Podrick, but he isn’t dating her either and technically Podrick can whereas he can not. He feels himself slipping into a dark mood. 

 

 

_Oh!_ Gendry can get behind this plan.

 

 

His eyes narrow to slits at his phone as confusion transforms his features. _What in the bleedin’ fuck?_ Gendry thinks to himself. Arya thankfully doesn’t keep him waiting long for an explanation. 

 

 

Gendry’s mouth is agape, staring at the deep purple hickey love bite he left on her neck. He doesn’t remember seeing it, her hair must have shielded it from his view. His eyes had been too fixated on and constantly bouncing between her lust filled grey eyes, her perky tits and his hand buried where he wished his face had been. A possessive, almost primal feeling comes over him looking at it, tinged only slightly with shame.

 

 

Arya takes another twenty minutes to respond, in which time Gendry tries to concentrate on the telly and not focus on the fact that she is getting dressed up to go out and get drunk with her sister and Podrick. And how much he wishes he could join, as though it were completely normal. 

 

 

_“Oh fuck me,”_ Gendry mutters under his breath and brings the phone closer to tap on the photo and zoom in on Arya. He acknowledges that yes, her sister is quite attractive, but she has nothing on his Arya. The alluring expression on her face and the irresistible way she’s pulling down on her plush bottom lip has him transfixed. For several minutes, in fact. She checks in on him finally. 

 

 

He growls at the mention of Podrick and his impeccable timing. 

 

 

Gendry smiles to himself, sets his alarm and leaves _Do Not Disturb_ off tonight just in case Podrick gets into his cups too, and they need a ride home. 

 

••

 

**_Tuesday, 16 April 2019_ **

 

The next morning Arya is a little worse for wear, having consumed entirely too many gin and tonics the night before to dull her senses enough to tolerate hearing Sansa ranting about the Instagram DMs she found in her, thankfully now, ex-boyfriend’s phone. Arya had repeatedly warned her sister that she didn’t trust or like Ramsay and had a gut feeling he was a dodgy fuckboy, but all forewarnings went ignored for months by her older, “wiser” sister. Eventually, after two straight hours of bitching and drinking, punctuated with bits of crying, the three of them cheered to good riddance to lousy rubbish with another round. After that, Arya began ordering more refills, whereas her companions had slowed down their drinking. The additional G&Ts were necessary for Arya to endure watching her sister entranced in a hypnotic stare with Podrick. Soon enough they seemed to have forgotten Arya was there at all. Drunkenly she watched the two of them with a bewildered expression as she got to witness for the first time Podrick in action as he quietly spoke to Sansa and looked at her as though no one else in the pub existed. Arya couldn’t hear a word he was saying to her but whatever it was must have been pure gold because Sansa’s eyes had suddenly filled with a fiery passion she’s never seen in her sister before and quite frankly, it made Arya feel a tad squeaked out to witness it. 

 

She flings her book bag carelessly onto her workstation and plops heavily down onto a stool, elbows on the table, and head hung low while she rubs her temples with both hands. It’s a half-hour till class starts, and she’s the first one there. Because, of course, she is. 

 

“Got a bit pissed last night?”

 

Arya groans at the disruption of silence but is nonetheless pleased to hear Gendry’s voice as he enters the smithy. He walks around to the front of her station and takes his first look at her. 

 

“Oof.”

 

“Shut it, Baratheon.”

 

“You look-“

 

“If you don’t say proper fit and fuckable, I’m going to slap you,” Arya weakly threatens. 

 

“You look rough.” He smiles widely at her and leans forward to rest his elbows on the workstation, despite her frail attempts at slapping his upper arm. 

 

She glares at him from under smudged lashes coated in last night’s mascara. 

 

“I know. But _‘Valar Dohaeris,’_ ” Arya groans and straightens her posture, knowing he’ll appreciate the slip of the obscure phrase she learned in his History class. The grin he gives her in response makes her stomach flip.

 

“You also still manage to look proper fit and fuckable, by the way.” He aims for casual, but the heat in his voice can’t be masked. Arya blushes wildly at the compliment and finds her body waking up to his presence despite her dreadful hangover. 

 

“Lemme see that love bite,” he whispers with a grin. She pulls back her scarf, having been too hungover this morning to care about putting makeup on it.

 

His tongue darts out to flick against his bottom lip as he stares at her neck. Arya reads clear lust on his face. 

 

“I hope you plan on leaving more elsewhere,” she tells him while moving her scarf back. 

 

“I have plans for a lot of things.” His voice is low and gruff, and she mentally freezes the moment to save it for later when she’s home. 

 

“How is she?” Gendry changes the subject. It makes her pause and smile at the sweetness of his inquiry.

 

“She’s more than fine now.”

 

“Yeah?” Gendry raises an inquisitive and amused eyebrow.

 

“You won’t be expecting Podrick in class today,” she explains with a teasing, amused smile.

 

“Oh? And where might he be?” Gendry asks with obvious interest.

 

“Sleeping in Sansa’s bed,” Arya answers with a grin and quirk of an eyebrow.

 

Gendry’s jaw drops comically, making her laugh, then clutch her lowered head with a grimace. He leans over across the workstation and kisses the top of her head. Slowly she lifts her eyes to meet his and hopes he sees everything that little action means to her reflected in her grey irises. He smiles gently back at her for a moment before moving on to more pressing matters.

 

“So how the bloody fuck did Podrick manage to pull that off?” he asks, clearly stunned.

 

“I have no idea,” Arya explains, staring absently into the distance and shaking her head slowly in bafflement. “One minute we’re cheersing and the next they were staring at each other like they were in a fucking trance or something.” Arya rubs above her eyebrow tiredly. “He started talking to her, and about forty minutes later we’re heading back to our flat, and they’re snogging in the lift on the way up to our floor like heathens and if I hadn’t been so drunk, I would have found my earbuds sooner to blast music to drown them out all night, and would have gotten more than the three hours of sleep I did.” 

 

“ _Fucking hell_ ,” Gendry responds with a whoosh of exhalation. 

 

“Yeah.” Arya nods her head in agreement. 

 

“What did he _say_ to her?” Gendry’s face is twisted in puzzlement.

 

“No idea, couldn’t hear. Also, I was getting more pissed by the minute with G&Ts in order to manage having to witness all _that_ ,” Arya adds with a disgusted expression and a wave of her hand as though she’s shooing away a fly. Gendry chuckles. 

 

“Well. Bloody good work, Stark.” His eyes are crystal blue and crinkled with a smile. She notices he didn’t shave this morning and the extra length of stubble looks really good on him, pronouncing more of the light goatee he has forming. Her mind wanders for an instant; imagining what it would feel like to feel his scruff sliding roughly up her inner thigh.

 

She smiles bashfully at the compliment and thought.

 

“I’ll make sure to mark him present today,” Gendry promises with a smirk. 

 

“How nice of you,” Arya smirks back. 

 

His scruff distracts her again when he reaches up to rub his chin in thought. “Is it weird that I feel a bit offended that he gave up on you so quick?”

 

Arya tilts her head to the ceiling, pondering the question. 

 

“Cute but a bit weird, yeah.” 

 

“Also, did you say they were snogging in the lift, meaning the lift in your _flat building_?” Gendry asks in a cynical yet humorous tone.

 

Knowing where he’s going with this, she simply nods her confirmation.

 

“ _So fucking posh_ ,” Gendry rolls his eyes at her, and she pinches the sensitive skin on his inner arm in retaliation. He yelps. She grins. 

 

“So what were you listening to, to help drown them out?”

 

“The Brotherhood Without-“

 

“I love them,” Gendry interrupts her with a gleeful smile. It makes her heart flutter. 

 

“Me too!” she softly exclaims, her headache still smarting. 

 

She stares down at his hand as it begins to travel over to her side of the table where her hand is resting atop the metal surface.

 

“Still enjoying my stolen hoodie?” he softly rubs his fingertips over the top of her knuckles. 

 

Arya’s eyes snap up to his, growing wide as she takes in his flirtatious expression; his smiling eyes and bottom lip bitten between his teeth. The jig is up, and he obviously doesn’t mind one bit, so she feigns disinterest. 

 

“It’ll do,” she gives a detached, cold look that slowly morphs into a smug, alluring smirk pulling at the corners of her lips.

 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Gendry warns with a smouldering intensity in his eyes. 

 

“Or what?” she challenges, jutting her chin up. 

 

“I won’t be liable for whatever I do to you, _m’lady_ ,” he emphasizes by squeezing her wrist and lowering his voice to what she mentally refers to as his authoritative professor voice. It hits her straight between the legs, and she subconsciously clenches her thighs together. And by the gleam in Gendry’s eyes, she knows he can tell. He’s figured her out already.

 

Before she gets to respond, a cluster of students voices suddenly erupts down the hallway, dashing cold water on them both as they both jerk their hands back to their respective sides of the table. Out of the large group of students in the hallway, only a few trickles into the smithy. Gendry straightens his back and greets them. They collectively return the greeting and deposit their book bags at their stations, all heading back out to the hallway to join their friends in front of the open doorway. The conversation is growing louder again. Arya winces.

 

Gendry leans low on the table again to speak under his breath. 

 

“You can go home, Arya. I know you feel like shit. And you’re not going to benefit from hearing a bunch of hammering today.”

 

“Ugh, are you sure? I feel bad for all the classes I’ve missed.” Arya is genuinely conflicted but also truly feels like shit.

 

Gendry shakes his head at her dismissively. “You’re way ahead of everyone else in the class. In fact, in all of my metalwork classes. Because of the amount of time you’ve spent during open lab. So you actually haven’t missed anything.”

 

“But you gave me a hard time about missing class,” she asserts with a small smile.

 

“Well, yeah. Your absence was felt greatly,” he explains with a shrug and small smile of his own. 

 

When he looks at her and speaks to her like that, she feels floaty and utterly ridiculous, and she loves it.

 

“What are you doing for lunch after? _Maybe we could_ …” Arya trails off, voice hopeful as she gingerly steps down off the stool and grabs her book bag. Gendry’s face looks at first delighted but then pensive as it occurs to him he’s forgetting something. 

 

“Aw fuck, sorry, I can’t, I just remembered I’m having lunch with Professor Worthington,” he explains regretfully, shaking his head. 

 

“Professor Worthington?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“The blonde from the History department?”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“ _Professor Titties?_ ” Arya cuts her eyes at him disdainfully. 

 

“Yeah,” Gendry sighs. 

 

Arya purses her lips and looks as displeased as she feels. He rushes to explain.

 

“I swear, there’s nothing going on, she wants to discuss a project our students could potentially work on together,” Gendry defends with his arms and palms held up.

 

“Sure, she does. And sure there isn’t,” Arya responds in a cross tone. She’s starting to feel worse by the second, and her mood is souring quickly. He stammers for a couple of seconds too long for her liking. 

 

“Well, enjoy your lunch then,” she tells him bitterly. She means to turn away and walk out but then Gendry steps quickly around the workstation to stop her from leaving.

 

“Okay, yeah, she’s asked me to lunch loads of times, but this is the first time she’s mentioned a work thing, so I’m kind of obligated to at least hear her out as a colleague. And _just_ as a colleague, nothing more,” Gendry explains pleadingly. 

 

Arya wants to believe him, and honestly, her gut says he’s telling the truth. But she feels oddly threatened by the buxom blonde who is closer in age to Gendry than she is and who has shown painfully obvious interest in him. She hasn’t responded yet, still looking hard at the floor. The conversation in the hallway behind them is getting rowdier. Gendry takes advantage of the distraction and quickly steps closer to her until she’s forced to look up into his eyes. His hands rise for an instant, intent on grabbing her by her arms, she thinks, but he clenches his fists instead and lowers them.

 

“Arya, you’re the only woman I’ve wanted since I handed you a syllabus and you threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn’t cover the famous swords of each noble house in extinct Westeros,” Gendry confesses earnestly, his voice low enough for only her to hear. 

 

Her hardened gaze instantly melts; her eyes wide but soft. His confession seems to have lit her up from within because for the moment, she doesn’t feel so dreadful anymore. Her hangover is forgotten momentarily as endorphins flood her system. Arya wants to tell him that she’s wanted him ever since his response back to her, _“What do you think I am, an amateur T.A.?”_

 

Instead, she rakes her eyes hungrily down his form, intent on him feeling every inch of her gaze, just like he had done to her in his History classroom. When her eyes finally return to his, she frees her bottom lip from her teeth. She registers on his face that he indeed felt the path her eyes spanned over him, his chest rising a bit quicker now. In as sultry as a voice as she can possibly muster while hungover and functioning on three hours of sleep, she tells him while walking away backwards, “I hope you have a productive lunch with Professor Worthington.” 

 

Arya gives him a wicked grin before turning around completely and walking through the crowd of students in the hallway. She walks to her car with the memory of the perplexed, afraid, yet aroused expression last seen on his face.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOO child, this is going to be angsty and awkward BUT! Smutty AF. Enjoy! 😙
> 
> Photos found on Tumblr | We ❤️It | Google.
> 
> Thank you so much for the love and kudos and comments!!!
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
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> 
> **Follow me for sneak peeks, updates and more!**
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> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FallonWCorinne)

 

Pushing her key into the lock and turning the knob as silently as possible, Arya creates a small space to slide through the door with her book bag and a shopping bag to avoid disturbing her sister and former shadow she couldn’t shake until last night. She suspects that Sansa and Podrick must still be asleep as she’s only been gone for an hour and she last heard them up at six in the morning, much to her chagrin. After leaving Gendry mystified, she picked up some hangover essentials: Pedialyte, iBuprofen, Epsom salt, and a bacon sandwich. She unwraps the warm sandwich and takes a quick bite while walking to the bathroom.

 

The benefit of having wealthy parents is that they insisted on setting Arya and her sister up in a posh two-bedroom flat within walking distance of the university in the middle of London. So they have a colossal jet bathtub, which has saved Arya’s aching muscles on more than a few occasions after long sessions training with her weight lifting and sword fighting instructor, a cranky old knob head by the name of Sandor. But she calls him The Hound. He also shared his hangover cure method with her.

 

Sandwich now devoured, Arya takes two pain relievers and begins chugging on the bottle of Pedialyte while filling up the bathtub. She pours the entire bag of Epsom salt in and adds a touch of Sansa’s bubble bath, then begins peeling off her clothes. Her phone, set on silent, lights up on the counter and for a moment her heart skips; wondering, assuming, hoping it’s a text from Gendry. Unfortunately, it’s a BBC News alert instead. Arya sheds the last remains of her clothes and then carries her phone with her to sit naked on the edge of the tub, waiting for it to finish filling. After checking the time, it appears her handsome professor will be meeting shortly with a big titted gorgeous blonde who is also a professor and they can talk about academic-y things at their work lunch. _How fun for them_ , Arya thinks resentfully.

 

Beneath the layers of jealousy, there’s a tiny part of her that she finds her self frequently silencing as of late that says she has no right to infringe on a potential relationship from forming between Gendry and the buxom professor or anyone else for that matter. But Arya has never known jealousy quite like this before. She has felt drawn to Gendry for the longest time, and once they finally gave in to their attraction for one another, she is now overcome with the need to claim him as hers. And as much as she would love to be able to rub it in Professor Titties face and all the rest, she’s willing to be able to have him even if no one can ever know. She tries to diminish her jealousy by reminding herself of what Gendry told her, that he hasn’t wanted anyone else since they met.

 

Arya reaches over to turn off the loud faucet, sending the room and flat back into silence. Gingerly she steps in, waving her feet around to distribute the last bits of Epsom salt that haven’t dissolved yet, and sinks into the water with her left hand held out, holding her phone. After a few moments of soaking and scrolling on her phone, she decides it’s time to interrupt this lunch date.

 

••

 

“Never seen you in your smithing clothes before.”

 

“Uh, yeah, hi. Just finished class. One sec,” Gendry replies, staring at his new laptop from his desk as he finishes typing a quick email. He just left the smithy and smells of sweat and fading cologne that he wore explicitly for Arya this morning. He’s wearing one of the dirty old t-shirts that he saves for forge days and a worn-out pair of jeans with holes in the knees and soot stains everywhere. After Arya was convinced that Professor Worthington had ulterior motives for this work lunch, he decided to err on the side of caution and keep on his dirty clothes that smell of fire and iron. He thought it best not to attempt to clean or dress up to avoid giving her the wrong idea, just in case Arya’s assumption was correct. He slaps the laptop down and finally looks up at his colleague waiting in the doorway. Not only is she wearing an extremely low cut blouse that is most definitely breaking dress code policy but its paired with the look of unadulterated desire radiating on her face as she stares him down. Gendry then decides he made the wrong choice on all accounts.

 

After performing a thorough eye shag on him, she smiles and gestures with her shoulder towards the hallway. “Ready to go?” she asks cheerfully and starts walking out the doorway. He walks behind her out of the classroom and rolls his eyes, thinking about how Arya was right, _as always_ , and closes the door behind him. Professor Worthington chats his ear off about what she’s currently teaching her students as they walk out into the car park, but he’s not registering most of it, thinking instead of ways on how to end this as quickly as possible. Gendry starts walking in the direction of his car and notices she’s following.

 

“Isn’t your car over there?” He points in the opposite direction.

 

“Oh, that’s silly taking two cars, I’ll just ride with you,” she replies sweetly with an undertone that indicates there will be no use in trying to argue. Gendry’s shoulders slump as they continue their walk to his car.

 

He doesn’t open her door for her. In fact, right before unlocking the car, he informs her, “My car has been a bit dodgy lately, breaking down a lot. You sure you want to ride with me?”

 

Professor Worthington shakes her head, smiling, and says, “I’m sure it’ll be fine for a quick trip up the road and back. Unless you planned on us going a bit farther?” she asks with a suggestive eyebrow.

 

“No! No, just the chip shop,” Gendry rushes to clarify and begrudgingly unlocks the car. He starts making his way to the fish and chip shop they agreed upon before in email, but she intercedes before he takes a turn by placing her hand on his knee, making him jump.

 

“What about! That _lovely French cafe_ that’s a block or two away from the chip shop? They have delicious steak and frites, and the atmosphere is quite cosy,” she tries to entice him.

 

Gendry blushes and the knee her hand is resting on starts to jump up and down, hoping she gets the hint. “I don’t think I’m dressed for that sort of establishment, I’m afraid,” and he takes the intended turn. She gives a small reluctant sigh and retrieves her hand. His cell phone chimes in his pocket, and he couldn’t be more thankful for the distraction. Gendry fishes the phone out despite his colleague’s protests that it’s illegal to text and drive. He ignores her and finds a text from Arya.

Gendry smiles widely at his phone while texting a reply back with his thumb, eyes bouncing back and forth between the phone and road.

 

“You really ought not to text and drive, Professor Baratheon,” his colleague huffs in her seat, not happy with whoever made him smile like that.

 

“Sorry, this is important,” he explains in a faux solemn voice. Gendry doesn’t notice when she turns her head to look out the window and rolls her eyes.

 

••

 

Arya kicks her legs in the bath, creating a huge splash out of annoyance and jealousy. And the fact that she’s getting jealous again is only making her angrier. Before she can settle on which threat to send, Gendry writes back.

“ _Yep_ ,” Arya mutters under her breath. Well two can play at that game. While Professor Titties attempts to seduce and tempt him during lunch with her assets, Arya can do the same from afar in the comfort of her bath.

 

••

 

Arya doesn’t respond to his last text, which makes him feel uneasy. They reach the chip shop, and again, Gendry doesn’t offer to open the door for her. He even walks into the shop ahead of her. They go up to the counter to place their orders, and he is quick to pay for his before the cashier has a chance to ask if it’ll be together. After a quick turn around, they get their orders and sit in a booth; Gendry immediately tucks into his lunch. 

 

“So-“ he starts with a mouth full of food, trying to be as unattractive as possible, “tell me about this project you want our students to work on together.”

 

Professor Worthington blushes as she stares down at her untouched food. “Actually, Professor Baratheon, there’s no project. I just knew it would be the only way to get you to agree to lunch with me.” 

 

“Ah.” He wipes his hands on a napkin, not surprised but also disappointed he took her bait.

 

“I’m still trying to make friends in the department, and it’s been really tough, to be honest,” her voice implores. She leans across the table, sliding her hand halfway towards his, and deliberately rests her heavy breasts on the surface. Gendry is determined to keep his eyes on hers. Just then, his phone chimes in his pocket.

 

“Do you have to get that right now?” she asks as sweetly as she can manage under apparent irritation.

 

“Sorry, be a sec,” Gendry offers, and he immediately digs it out.

 

Gendry stares slack-jawed at his phone.“Is everything okay?” Professor Worthington asks with concern, misconstruing his expression for one of shock to bad news.

 

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, uh, new developments,” he answers distractedly.

 

“Oh,” she pauses before her hand reaches across to slide her fingers over the top of his. “Is everything okay? Is there anything I can do?” 

 

Gendry quickly slides his hand out from under hers to type with both thumbs.

He turns his phone to Vibrate on Silent and goes to make it look like he’s putting it away in his pocket, but he slides it under the table in his lap instead and keeps both hands holding on to it to text and also avoid Professor Worthington’s overactive fingers. Looking back up, he finds his colleague looking at him, waiting for some sort of explanation.

 

“Ah, sorry. Situation goin’ on, things are happening. Um, right. So, I’m sorry to hear that you’re having a hard time finding mates at work,” Gendry offers awkwardly as he picks up his drink to take a long swig and returns his hand under the table afterwards.

 

She smiles, bashfully, and looks away. “None of the female professors like me very much. I have no idea why.” She slides her long blonde hair off of her exposed cleavage. 

 

Gendry didn’t catch the act because he’s looking at his lap, blushing. When she turns to look over at him again, Professor Worthington misinterprets this to mean her feminine wiles are starting to work. 

 

“Yeah, well, I don’t really know what kind of advice to give because I’m not mates with many of my colleagues either so-“ he says distractedly, breathing slightly laboured while still staring at his lap. Encouraged, she continues. “I noticed that. Which is why I was thinking that maybe you and I could become mates. _Close mates_ ,” Professor Worthington adds a suggestive tone at the end. 

 

Gendry isn’t listening anymore because he’s too busy staring at his phone.

 

Gendry continues to scroll the photo up and down, paranoid of anyone seeing it even beneath the table but also needing to repeatedly glance at her gorgeous wet tits and beautiful hard pink nipples he desperately can’t wait to suck. His cock is engorged, making him completely unaware of his surroundings now. Even after he texts her back, he continues to stare at her photo.

 

 

“Professor Baratheon?” his eager colleague interrupts him from his trance, and when he lifts his head to look at her, his face must carry with it a look of lust he has been too slow to shake off. Because all of a sudden she leans quickly across the table, her shirt dragging across the top of their fish and chips, knocking over her drink and spilling it onto the floor and kisses him, assuming by his expression that he was more than happy with her double entendre suggestion to become close mates. 

 

Gendry quickly backs up as soon as he realizes she’s going for it, not having much more space to go against the back of the booth and manages to only feel the faintest touch of her lips once he’s completely flush against his seat and suddenly he exclaims, “ _I’m seeing someone!_ ” 

 

Professor Worthington is still leant over the table, inches away from his face, complete shock frozen on her features. She quickly sits back down, bits of fried food, malt vinegar, and grease left on her shirt. His phone rings. _By the merciful seven, whether they exist or not_ , Gendry thinks to himself as he scrambles to answer it.

 

 _“Hello Professor Baratheon, I’m afraid you are needed elsewhere where slags like Professor Titties can no longer harm you,”_ Arya’s voice greets him nearly prophetically, not waiting for a hello. 

 

“Right, I’ll be on my way then, leaving right now,” Gendry replies very seriously, playing along. He begins to stand up from the booth when Professor Worthington stops him by saying, “Wait, how am I getting back to the university?” 

 

 _“Tell her to walk back,”_  Arya pipes up on the other line.  

 

“Oh, right. Um. I’m sorry?” Gendry offers with a shrug of his shoulders as he steps over the puddle of her spilt drink and walks away from the table, leaving Professor Worthington with a dumbfounded look on her face. From the door, he calls out, “I’ll reimburse you for your Uber or taxi!” and heads to his car. 

 

 _“Aww, what a gentleman.”_  

 

“I try.” Gendry gets settled into his car and switches over to BlueTooth to continue talking to his heroine. 

 

“Goddamn you, woman, I thought I was going to bust a load all over myself with that photo of yours! You are officially driving me mad.” 

 

 _“Good thing you didn’t or else she would have thought it was for her.”_  

 

“Good thing, that,” Gendry agrees with a smile. “Thanks for calling sooner than 5 minutes.”

 

 _“You’re welcome. So how bad was it?”_  

 

“Ummm….” Gendry drags out as he navigates his way to one of his favourite lunch spots since he didn’t get to actually eat. 

 

 _“Baratheon.”_  

 

“ _She kissed me?_ ” he says with a questioning tone; face pinched in pained suspense. 

 

 _“WHAT?! What did you do to make her do that?!”_  

 

“Nothing! I was being completely rude, talking with food in my mouth, didn’t open any doors for her!”

 

 _“What were you wearing?”_  

 

Gendry gasps. 

 

“That’s _sexist_.” 

 

 _“Out with it.”_  

 

“I was wearing my forging clothes, y’know, my dirty old shirt and ripped up jeans. I didn’t clean up, I swear!”

 

 _“Well no wonder, stupid! You look ridiculously hot wearing that! You basically dressed ready to seduce her, you harlot.”_  

 

“Woah now, I’m not a bloody harlot and did you say I look ridiculously hot wearing this?”

 

There’s silence on the line.

 

 _“No.”_  

 

“Stubborn.”

 

 _“I’m still mad at you for kissing her!”_  

 

“I didn’t kiss her! She barely kissed me!”

 

 _“What in the bloody fuck does ‘barely’ mean?!”_  Her anger is ramping up. _“I never ‘barely’ kissed fucking Podrick!”_

 

“Our lips barely touched, I didn’t let-“

 

 _“They shouldn’t have touched at all! Is this a common occurrence with you and other professors? How about students, have you ever finger fucked one of your students before in the smithy?”_ Her voice is cold but wobbly. The seriousness of this conversation has just increased by a thousand per cent.

 

Gendry is at a stoplight, breathing hard and gripping his steering wheel tight. He feels sick to his stomach.

 

“Arya, I know I deserve that, what I did to you wasn’t proper-“

 

 _“I wasn’t trying to guilt you about fingering ME, I just-“_  she sighs loudly. _“-have you ever been with a student before?”_

 

“No! Never! I swear, Arya. Only you can make me cross that boundary.” 

 

Gendry takes a deep breath and sighs before revealing a little more of his heart. “I’m quite taken with you. I fancy you. A lot.” 

 

Arya’s voice is meek. _“Well, that’s good. I happen to fancy you quite a bit as well.”_

 

There is dead air as Gendry smiles brightly. 

 

 _“So tell me what she did.”_  

 

“She leaned over the table real quick like, knocked over her drink and was able to kiss me JUST A TINY BIT when I went as far back as I could go against the booth of the chippy before I was able to tell her I was seeing someone.” 

 

 _“That slag stole my move!”_  

 

“What?!” Gendry is clearly exasperated at what Arya has chosen to be angry about. 

 

 _“Wait,”_  her voice loses its anger and becomes introspective. _“You told her you were seeing someone?”_

 

Gendry clears his throat. “Yeah.”

 

 _“Oh.”_  

 

“Thought you would have liked that?”

 

 _“I do. Very much.”_  

 

Her voice is sincere. 

 

 _“But, uh.”_  The tone of her voice drops down, troubled.

 

“What?”

 

 _“What if she tells others that you’re seeing someone?”_  

 

Gendry, not understanding her line of thinking, answers, “She told me she doesn’t have many friends, that none of the female professors would befriend her.”

 

 _“She was lying, I see her all the time with all those gossiping miserable shits.”_  

 

“Well, what does it matter if she does tell people? That would mean people would stop asking me out or offering to set me up on loads of dates-“

 

 _“Women ask you out all the time? And people try to set you up on dates? All the time?”_  

 

“Yeah, it’s annoying and-“

 

 _“Have you declined them all?”_  

 

“Yes, I told you. You’re the only woman I’ve wanted since we met. Seriously, Arya.”

 

 _“We met a while ago.”_  

 

“Uh, huh.”

 

 _“Does that mean you haven’t had sex since then?”_  

 

Gendry blushes and grips the steering wheel a bit harder. 

 

“Yup,” he sighs. 

 

 _"Oh, wow.”_  

 

Silence lingers for a moment, neither knowing what to do next with the sexual tension amongst all the other revelations. 

 

 _“Well, I plan on helping you make up for lost time.”_  

 

Gendry swallows and shifts his hips in his seat, nearing his destination. 

 

“You happen to be home alone in that big bath of yours?” He hopes the answer is yes because suddenly his hunger for food has abated, and now all he wants to do is slip and slide against her skin in that deep water, exploring every inch of her. 

 

She sighs on the other end.

 

 _“Unfortunately no, they’re still sleeping. Why, would you have really come over?”_  

 

“I don’t think I’d have much of a choice after that promise of yours.” 

 

Arya laughs throatily. _“Hopefully we can find some time this week to start working on that promise.”_

 

Gendry groans happily in response, which makes her giggle. He’ll need a few minutes before he can exit the car. 

 

“Listen, I’m nearing Harold’s to grab a bit of lunch, do you need anything? I could bring something by for your hangover and meet you downstairs to give it to you?”

 

 _“That’s so sweet of you, but I already picked up all that I need, thank you.”_  

 

Disappointed at another failed attempt to see her, he supposes he should let her go.

 

“Alright. Well. Thank you for the rescue, Stark.” 

 

 _“Any time, Baratheon.”_  

 

“And I hope you feel better and take a nice long nap after your bath. You’ll be missed tonight in open lab, I’m not even expecting you to come so don’t bother.” 

 

She laughs. _“Thank you, I definitely will.”_ Her voice sounds the softest he’s ever heard it.

 

 _“Later, stag.”_  

 

He laughs mirthfully. “Later, little wolf.”

 

Gendry hangs up, smiling at the fact that she remembered his father’s family crest. 

 

••

 

Hours later Arya wakes up to darkness. Besides a dull headache, she’s feeling better, but food will help. She reaches out beside her for her phone to see if she’s missed anything. Besides texts from Sansa sent throughout the day of only heart emojis and romance related GIFs, she brightens up to see a text from her stag, she’s decided to call him.

 A grin blossoms on her face in the darkness, her features lit by the light of her phone. 

 

 Arya growls grumpily at his arrogance and at him being correct, but it’s also making her feel pretty soft that he wants a photo of her in such a state. So she takes one.

 

His apparent desire to take care of her doesn’t bother her like when other men have offered her help. Arya prides herself on being an independent woman, but she can feel herself falling even more for this man who wants to make sure she has what she needs to aid her hangover, even if it means he can’t come up to her flat to give it to her. 

 

Arya flings the covers off and pads out to the kitchen. As she stands in front of the open fridge, her sister appears from around the corner and comes up to wrap her arms around Arya from behind.

 

“Ew, what are you doing,” Arya says jokingly, not reaching to hug back.

 

“I’m thanking you,” Sansa says dreamily with a soft smile, cheek laid against the back of Arya’s throbbing head. 

 

“Thank me by fetching me iBuprofen, killing me, and never fucking Podrick here again.” 

 

“Sure, yes, anything for you,” Sansa leaves a great big kiss in her hair and walks away to find the iBuprofen. When she returns, Arya is leaning against the kitchen island with an amused and inquisitive expression. 

 

“You really like him,” she states. 

 

Sansa shakes her head yes, and her small close-lipped smile blossoms into a full-blown grin. 

 

“Wow. You know that’s _Podrick_ , right?”

 

“Yeah,” Sansa sighs happily. 

 

Arya smiles at her sister. “I’m really happy for you, San.” 

 

They hug again and both set about making something to eat while Sansa fills her in on all the incredible things Podrick told her and alluded to the things he did to her that blew her mind, deep blushes on both of their faces and Arya, like a good sister, struggled through every gory detail. Her mind can’t help but drift to Gendry, and she looks over at her sister, wondering for a moment if she could trust her with this secret. Seeing Sansa so smitten with Podrick makes her wish she could share in that lovely sisterly exchange of swooning over their boys. But she refrains. 

  

••

 

**_Saturday, 20 April 2019_ **

  

It’s Saturday, and Arya is getting dressed to meet their parents for a monthly family dinner. Since they’re meeting for dinner at a Michelin star restaurant rather than at home, Arya was reminded repeatedly quite early this morning via text by her mum to dress up, even if a tiny bit. The best Arya is willing to do is a black linen romper with a long and light-bodied orange trench coat. The length of the coat highlights how short her romper is and she throws on a pair of mid-calf black boots to top it off. 

 

“Ta-dah. How do I look?”

 

“Gorgeous but it’s 11AM. Dinner is at 7:30,” Sansa casually replies from the couch, sipping coffee.

 

“I don’t care, I’m getting it out of the way now before I have to run a bunch of errands,” Arya explains as she rushes around the living room. “I have SO much shit I need to get done, this week has been ridicu-“ Her phone chimes with a text.

 

“Oh, for fuck sake, what now mum, I don’t have time for-“

 

It’s a text from Gendry. After Arya recovered from her hangover, the rest of the week kept both of them surprisingly busy with obligations involving upcoming exams and work-related matters, so they weren’t able to find the time or privacy while on campus to kiss, let alone touch one another. All they were left with was sending lustful gazes each other’s way during class and texting an enormous amount. And quite often their text conversations turned heated quickly. But Gendry always refused her request for a dick pic. And he never asked her for a photo in return. Said he doesn’t like to ruin the surprise, but it’s been how many days since he touched her? And Arya is losing her mind with lust and impatience. Like early this morning while they texted hello that turned into what are you wearing, her hand between her legs before her mum ruined it with her insistent texting, asking what she was going to wear tonight.

 

All planned errands immediately are thrown onto the back burner to catch on fire as she texts him back, asking where he is.

 

••

 

She arrives in her late 1970s Mercedes green convertible with the top down. Gendry is wearing a tan tank and loose jeans that sag a bit on his hips, revealing a cut V shape where his tank has risen a bit when he reaches to point at something while talking to the tow truck driver. When he turns around and sees her, his smile is brilliant, and she squeezes her thighs and smiles back in response. After bidding the driver farewell, he hops in next to her and looks around at the lack of ceiling.

 

“Didn’t know this was a convertible.” 

 

“Thought it’d be nice on a rare sunny day like this.”

 

His eyes then direct their attention to her and roam over her.

 

“You didn’t have to get all dressed up to pick up a low born bastard like me,” Gendry tells her with a smirk and a wink as he leans over to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride."

 

“I didn’t. It’s for dinner later with my parents but thank you for noticing,” she responds sarcastically sweet.

 

Gendry looks down at her lap and reaches out to pinch the edge of her flowy linen shorts attached to the romper, making her gasp lightly under her breath at the contact. 

 

“A bit short innit for a family dinner? Sure you weren’t on your way to a date?” His flirtatious, teasing tone does a number on her knickers every time. 

 

Arya grins at him. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m on my way to one right now.” She holds his eyes while she puts the car in drive. 

 

“You don’t know where the shop is.”

 

“We’re not going to to the shop yet.” She begins driving down the road. 

 

Gendry looks over at her with a smile. 

 

“Yeah? Where we off to then?” 

 

“How much time do you have before they’ll be done with your car?”

 

He shrugs his shoulders. “They said it could take them anywhere between an hour or two.”

 

“Then we’re going on a little road trip,” she informs him with a grin.

 

•••

  

Arya drives further into the park to the very back where she knows there is a secluded open field that they can pull into and still have privacy out under the open sky, far from people. She knows because she’s been taken here once before by the boy she gave her first blow job to in the back of his car. 

 

Gendry’s grip on her knee begins to slide up her exposed, toned quad and with gentle pressure, he urges her thigh to part away from the other. Her breathing begins to quicken, eyes trained ahead on the road while his fingers disappear underneath her flowy linen shorts she now wishes was a skirt. In spite of the crotch of her shorts being in the way, he still has enough room to drag his fingertips along the edge of her knickers. He can’t or _won’t_ reach over to skim his finger over the surface of her knickers where she is aching, regardless of her hips insistent jerks. Her impatience causes her to press down on the accelerator.

 

“Suddenly in a hurry, Stark?” She can hear the smug smile in his voice. So he _is_ teasing her, then.

 

Still not looking over at him and intent on getting to their destination, she ignores the jape. He continues to skim the edge but never over. Her pussy lips are swelling with need. They finally arrive in what feels like fifteen minutes to her but is actually two. Arya lets off the accelerator to gently guide her car into the beautiful open field enclosed with trees. After finding a suitable spot, she throws the car in park, turns off the ignition and begins to tear her seat belt off. Gendry is on a two-second delay, clearly not expecting the urgency of which she is about to throw herself at him. But he’s quick in divesting himself of the seat belt just in time as Arya turns to throw a leg on the other side of him and straddles his lap. Their lips crash awkwardly into each other for the first time in days as she hovers above him, gripping his shoulders while trying to find a comfortable place for her knees on either side of him. Gendry’s hands are inside her trench coat grabbing her hips when she begins to sway them to and fro in his hands experimentally before she drops her weight heavily into his lap, her clothed cunt making direct impact with the outline of his swollen, thick cock covered in denim. They both gasp into each other’s mouths at the contact before it turns into a unified moan when she starts to grind her hips to trace the length of him. 

 

Arya had only done this particular act once before as well, with the same boy she gave the blowjob to. And he definitely didn’t measure up to what lies beneath her cunt now. It wasn’t nearly this large, nearly this hard and didn’t feel this fucking good to drag her pussy across. She begins to quicken her pace, literally dry fucking him into his seat and he doesn’t hesitate in squeezing her hips and thrusting hard up against her. The sensation of her in control of rubbing herself along his shaft while he remained patiently still beneath her was maddening enough, but _this_ feeling of him pushing his cock roughly against her, his hips mimicking the act of sex beneath her opened thighs has her feeling drugged with overwhelming pleasure. She cries out at the sensation, pushing her forehead against his to look down at where they could almost be joined and thinks this can’t possibly be happening, she couldn’t possibly be rubbing her young inexperienced pussy against her gorgeous 31-year-old professor’s cock that is hard for her, only her. 

 

Gendry pants against her lips and aggressively drags her hips across his length, meeting every one of her rapid thrusts. Her hands scramble to cup his face so she can recapture his lips and he kisses her deeply, tongue invading her mouth much in the same way his restrained hard cock is trying so desperately to invade her cunt. The kiss feels filthy and only adds to the symphony of notes of different pleasure she’s experiencing all at once. She can feel how wet she is, completely ruining her knickers and the crotch of her hiked up romper, sliding easily against the material, aided by Gendry’s unrelenting robust press and drag of his denim-clad shaft against every inch of her pussy.

 

The pressure in her core is building to a crescendo quickly, much quicker than Arya is accustomed to. But she doesn’t care, she chases the feeling with ardent intent, giving herself over to the moment and losing herself in it completely. Tugging on his locks, she tears her lips away from his to bury her face into his sweaty, straining neck and grinds her cunt down harder on his thickness, wishing desperately it was inside her and comes harder than she ever thought possible. Arya allows herself to moan loudly, gutturally against his neck, the sound getting lost in the vast open space above them. It feels freeing to be able to completely let go and express her ecstasy without worrying about having to be quiet. Gendry’s grip on her hips never ceases, and he continues to push their hips together to draw out the last remaining ebbs of her orgasm until Arya’s hips slow down to a stop. She pants against his neck, overcome with the sated feeling of resting against his chest, tucked tight in his lap under his chin with his arms wrapped around her, his persistent cock still hard beneath her.

 

“You sound fucking incredible when you come,” Gendry pants, voice gruff. 

 

Arya lifts her head and cups his face again, and he must really enjoy the drowsy look of lust on her face because his hips give an involuntarily thrust. 

 

“That was amazing,” she tells him breathily. He groans in agreement and leans forward to nibble on her bottom lip. After a few lazy kisses, she asks him, “Did you come?”

 

Gendry shakes his head no. “You came pretty quick, I couldn’t catch up,” he explains with a triumphant smile while palming her tits through her shirt, making her nipples harden and ache. Already he’s setting her body aflame again.

 

Arya draws his face closer to hers and asks in a voice hoarse from her cries of ecstasy, “ _Would you like to_?”

 

Gendry swallows then licks his lips. 

 

“Yes, please,” he whispers against her lips, his hands sliding from her tits, around and down her back underneath the trench coat to grab her ass firmly. The movement forces her forward against his straining cock, making her whimper. She grabs his face and kisses him hungrily, excited to finally bring him pleasure under her own ministrations. 

 

Without looking or tearing her lips and tongue away from his, Arya reaches over and opens the passenger car door wide open. She begins to slowly lift off his lap, to which he responds by roughly bringing her back down onto his cock and asking gruffly, “ _Where you think you’re going_?” Moaning at his display of dominance, Arya’s convinced she could get off again within one minute flat if she allows him to distract her. She grabs him by the throat instead and pushes him gently back until he’s leaning against the headrest, her hand squeezing just a tiny bit, just enough to breathe a new fire of lust in his eyes. 

 

“We’re going to enact one of _my_ fantasies now,” she tells him before releasing his throat to glide her hand down his rippling chest while she rises from his lap and steps out of the car. She grabs his left leg and goes to move it. Gendry begins to position himself where he thinks she wants him, stepping his leg out of the car and instinctively slides his shoulders back and at an angle so that he’s still leaning against the seat but facing her out the door.

 

Arya leans down to kiss him, forcing him to tilt his chin up to meet her. She rubs the scruff on his chin before dragging her lips there to kiss him along his jaw while her fingers slide down his throat and chest again, molesting his firm pecs and abs she can’t wait to see. Backing up to make sure she has his gaze, she slowly lowers herself until her bare knees are resting on the grass outside the car in between his legs. Gendry’s eyes widen, and his jaw goes slack as soon as he realizes what she plans to do. Her hands reach for the waistband of his jeans, pulling the top button free. They haven’t broken eye contact once. Gendry is breathing heavily, eyes heavily lidded while his hand grips the edge of the seat as he watches her. His erection is so pronounced that it makes his jeans tight; straining directly underneath the zipper. With the top button free, Arya keeps him waiting by tracing his impressive bulge with the lightest touch of her fingertips and feels her heart race.

 

“You were once so jealous thinking I got bruises on my knees from giving another man a blowjob,” Arya says slightly dazed, a melodic quality to her voice. Her fingers reach for the zipper tab. His fingers dig deeper into the upholstery of the seat. “Little did you know how badly I’ve wanted to suck _your_ cock on my knees.” She tugs on the zipper slowly and the first sound of the metal grinding apart brings her back to reality. This is _really_ happening. Her hands are actually about to unveil Gendry’s cock to her for the first time. A sight she should not be privy to; an action she positively shouldn’t be engaging in. And more importantly, neither should he. But quite frankly, that makes her want him and this all the more. 

 

The zipper’s descent is cruelly slow. “I’ve licked and sucked my dildos to get them wet for me, imagining it was you. Practising.”

 

His hips thrust up to her hand that is pulling the zipper, and he moans. Seeing him so anxious at her words and for her touch sends a thrill of power through her. The zipper makes it's way down but not without his assistance; he was straining so hard within his boxer briefs against the zipper that halfway it wouldn’t slide until he reached and pushed his clothed cock down against his belly. With the zipper now unfastened, Arya pulls his jeans open and sees that the outline of his erection is even more impressive in his underwear. By the wet spot at the top, she can tell that his cock is standing straight up. Gently she runs a fingertip up, starting at the base and touching through the fabric, making Gendry jump and gasp. Her finger glides up and begins to press down harder once she knows she’s reached the head, just like he did to her clit when he fingered her in the smithy. He’s breathing hard and gripping the passenger seat for dear life. 

 

Arya reaches both hands to the band of his boxer briefs and dips her fingertips in along the curve of his hips to begin to roll them down when she tells him, “It’s funny you were so jealous of those bruises because I used to pretend that I got them from sucking you off like a good girl.” 

 

Gendry grits his teeth and growls low in his throat in response, obviously struggling to keep his lust from becoming unbridled. She begins to pull the wet fabric down, revealing for the first time his thick, leaking head bulging out from the taut foreskin. 

 

“Think you’ll earn some bruises sitting down there today?” Gendry teases her, voice rough with lust.

 

Upon the first sight of him, Arya is suddenly overwhelmed with impatience and rips the boxers down, freeing him; her mouth salivating. Turns out Gendry’s suggestion that she’ll need to warm up with her dildos prior to the first time they have sex wasn’t made in jest. He’s much thicker and longer than any toy she owns. Seeing his proud hard cock jutting up towards his belly button, throbbing for _her_ is making her cunt ache and swell for release again. She reaches out with a confident, firm grip around the middle of his shaft, causing Gendry to pant and mutter _fuck_ under his breath. 

 

Her gaze travels from his thick length to his eyes. As her hand begins to slowly stroke him, she licks her lips and tells him in response to his earlier taunt, “I plan on it, sir.” And then she leans forward and licks a hot stripe of wet fire up his shaft and over his glistening head, moaning instantly at the salty taste of him. Gendry’s chest swells with each intake of breath as he looks down at her with an expression that clearly states he can’t fathom how he came to be so incredibly fortunate to find himself leaking right now against her tongue. 

 

Their eyes never waver, never break apart as her delicate hand squeezes him tighter, her grip readjusting experimentally as she takes him into her mouth for the first time, sliding his slick head against her velvet tongue and wrapping her lips around the base of the tip, sucking hard before pulling it out between her full lips with an audible _pop_. 

 

Gendry is the first to break their stare as his eyes roll back, along with his head between his shoulders. Arya smiles victoriously and pulls him back into her mouth. His girth is foreign to her as she tries to adjust her jaw and lips to accommodate him. For a moment her confidence shatters as she worries that all her fumbling around, trying to readjust her position on her knees and her mouth floundering on his cock as it opens and closes down around him, trying to take more of him in, shows just how much of an amateur she is. 

 

Arya learns quickly that she’s a bloody fool when Gendry moans loudly and begins to lose his restraint under her determined mouth when his hips jerk gently to push himself further in. She can’t help the slight gag, not ready for his reaction. He reaches a concerned hand to cup the side of her face and leans slightly forward. 

 

“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-“

 

But his apologies go ignored as Arya uses the extra salvia that her brief choking provided to aid her to engulfing more of his cock, going further down. 

 

“ _Oh fuck, Arya,_ ” he groans in response, sliding his fingers into her hair and around the back of her head. 

 

She goes down as far as she can before triggering her gagging reflexes and can’t help the slight disappointment at not being able to take more of him in when the last time she did this she was able to take it all the way into the back of her throat. That unfortunate bloke wasn’t nearly as blessed as Gendry, however. 

 

Her mouth sucks hard as she comes back up to the top, coating his shaft in enough spit so her hand can now glide easily. She begins to set a rhythm with her bobbing head, stroking him in time, so her fingers meet her lips on his tip before engulfing him again, lips spreading wide around his thickness, chasing her hand on the downstroke. Gendry is losing his mind, panting and groaning fervently. His grip on the back of her head starts to ever so gently guide her, push her, just a little bit. Arya has fantasized countless times about him doing just that and moans around his cock, making his hips thrust again, this time not so gently. 

 

It only makes her moan louder, the sound muffled and vibrating around his wet thickness as she picks up her pace, digging her knees deeper into the earth below her to steady her core. Gendry’s groans, pants and continuous whispers of _Arya oh fuck so good_ spurs her on, making her desperately want to give him release, wanting to be the one to give that to him finally after lusting for him after seven long months. Arya concentrates on sucking the head and stroking beneath, listening to Gendry’s breathing and feeling his fingers grip her hair harder. He’s _so close_ , already flooding her mouth with pre-ejaculate when he goes to push her shoulder and gasp, “ _Arya, I’m gonna-“_ but she continues sucking, knowing the gentleman in him intends to not come in her mouth, but she absolutely does. He pushes on her shoulder again with another strangled warning, but Arya’s mouth does not relent. She feels his girth swell to a more substantial width. Knowing he’s about to orgasm, she sucks harder, jerking her hand with the intention of erasing every memory of every blowjob any woman has ever given him. 

 

“ _Fuck! Arya!_ ” Gendry groans, holding the back of her head with both hands as spurts of his come slide down her throat that she swallows greedily. It takes multiple attempts; his release so massive. Arya doesn’t mind the taste; in fact, she finds she loves it because it tastes like _him_. She continues to gently lap at him, making sure she licks off every drop he spilt for her, even gripping him tight under the softening head and pulling one last salty pearl and licking it off slowly, raising her eyes up to him to see him watching. His chest is heaving and sweat dots along his forehead and upper lip. In his eyes, she sees adore, fixation, contentment, and a new storm of lust she’s just awakened. She gives the tip one last soft kiss before she draws his boxers back up to cover him and wipes her chin against the back of her hand. 

 

Arya really wants to kiss him, but she thinks she already ate the last piece of gum in the glovebox. Doesn’t matter. Gendry swoops down and kisses her swollen, red lips and plunges his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply and tasting the last remnants of himself. She kisses back just as passionately and deeply, encouraged by his bold behaviour. He pulls back enough to look into her eyes.

 

“Thank you, that was,” he takes a deep breath, “ _the absolute fucking best blow job of my bloody life, thankyouthankyouthankyou,”_ Gendry repeats like a mantra as he peppers kisses all over her lips and face and neck, making her laugh and wrap her arms around his neck, still standing on her knees. 

 

“Better than all the rest?” Arya sighs as she leans her head to the side for him to lavish attention on her neck. His lips still for the briefest of moments and her gut begins to fill with ice, but before her mind runs away with her, Gendry pulls away from the crook of her neck to look at her fondly. 

 

“No one, not a single one compares to you. In any way,” he tells her earnestly, but it doesn’t sound like they’re just talking about the quality of her blow job. She smiles at him and kisses him gently, showing she acknowledges the undertone meaning. 

 

“How're those knees?” Gendry whispers with a mischievous expression, making him look far younger. 

 

Arya supports herself on his shoulders as she stands, now taller than him. She props a leg up onto the door frame of the car in between his legs so he can examine the state of her knees. They’re covered in dirt and grass stains with indentations from loose debris. Gendry wipes the knee clean and leans over to kiss it softly. The sight makes her heartache in a way she’s never felt before. 

 

After he repeats the same action to her other knee, unaware of the loving look that is directed at him while doing so, they spend the next several minutes making out with her standing outside of the car and him in his seat, to avoid temptation since their time is running out. Soon she’ll have to drop him off to the shop where his car is getting worked on and then make a quick stop at the flat to change her knickers before meeting her family for dinner. Then hopefully she can get another private moment like this with him again soon as they navigate and discover the territory they are free to roam under the condition of their roles.

 

For now, Arya pushes all those thoughts away and wraps her arms around Gendry’s shoulders, kissing him and not taking a second for granted. For a few glorious moments, they are just a girl and just a boy kissing in a field.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is SMUT-EEEEE, baby. Get ready.
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__

 

 

_“C’mon, please.”_

 

_“We don’t have time.”_

 

_“Just one lick.”_

 

_“…grrr! Stop almost making me cave!”_

 

_“Please, Arya, I want to taste you so bad.”_

 

_“Argh! You know how much I want you to.”_

 

_“Then pull over.”_

 

_“Can’t.”_

 

_“Pleeeease, Arya?”_

 

_“Now you’re begging?”_

 

_“Will that work?”_

 

_“...”_

 

_“Is that a maybe?”_

 

_“Get your hand out of there! I’m going to crash!”_

 

_“You weren’t complaining before.”_

 

_“That was before I was on a deadline.”_

 

_“Please, please, please let me have just a little taste.”_

 

_“You’ve tasted me on your fingers, remember?”_

 

_“I want a taste from the source.”_

 

_“Ugh, why are you so good with words and that voice…”_

 

_“You can’t expect me not to want to ravish your cunt with my mouth after you just sucked me off.”_

 

_“…”_

 

_“…?”_

 

_“I really should have planned the timing of this better.”_

 

_“One lick!”_

 

_“Gendry!”_

 

**_Thursday, 25 April 2019_ **

 

He’s absorbed in the memory of pleading with Arya to let him devour her pussy as they drove out of the park that wondrous afternoon. But due to the time constraint that traffic would provide between dropping him off at the repair shop, getting back to her flat to change her soaked knickers, and then dash across town in Saturday evening London traffic to make it to her family dinner in time, she couldn’t grant his wish, no matter how badly she wanted to. And he definitely knew she wanted to. Gendry could feel the waves of overwhelming disappointment and impatience coming off of her and see the yearning in her eyes at having to decline and be responsible instead. Honestly, he knew that if she had caved into his requested one precious lick, it wouldn’t have ended there. And alone, just the two of them lost in a field of wheat with an ample sized car, he would wager that her virginity would have been lost as well if they had stayed.

 

Gendry has been relying heavily on the memory of that afternoon frequently and ever since. It’s been helping tide him over since midterms have arrived and madness has descended upon the university. The smithy has been swarming with students from all different levels of metalwork courses during all the available open lab hours, so they haven’t found freedom there to touch, let alone talk beyond anything classwork related. Same goes for their routine morning debates before History of Weaponry class. Arya has been working so hard as of late on all her reports and assignments due for midterms that she’s been sleeping in; one day this week she came in fifteen minutes late with a muffin clutched in her mouth, rushing to take her book bag off her shoulders and slip into her seat. He was lucky to be sitting behind his desk at the time because instantly his mind replaced that muffin with the visual of his thick cock and her plump lips stretching to sink him further into her wet mouth. 

 

And there goes his cock again because Arya has reduced him to a horny adolescent. Gendry rearranges his waking member under the desk before going back to typing out exam questions. But his fingers only hover above the keyboard, mind slipping back into the memory of watching her in awe as she struggled to take more of him; so determined, his little wolf, to deep throat his long length. Arya unabashedly sucking his cock with sincere enthusiasm whilst on her knees between his legs was an image he never thought he’d be lucky enough to see. And now it’s all he sees. 

 

He’s working from home for a few hours in order to get some peace and quiet before he has to go back in to teach his evening class. Glancing at the time, Gendry figures he can afford to take a small break to help him refocus. Reaching for his phone with one hand to pull up the photo of Arya’s gorgeous tits and lowering his zipper with the other, a loud bang out in the hallway of his floor makes him jump, followed by several more bangs and now his zipper is lowered for nothing. _So much for peace and quiet_ , he thinks bitterly to himself. Someone is moving into the flat at the end of the hall, and Gendry’s front door happens to be facing the entrance to the stairwell, which is convenient but also proves to be annoying. Sighing, he zips up and returns to typing, wondering how Arya is doing while she’s in class. 

 

••

 

Arya is bored out of her fucking mind, but at least she’s able to work on her midterm paper for History of Weaponry. Everyone surrounding her is typing notes on their laptops for the upcoming exam they are to take, but Arya is proofreading the one out of four midterm papers that she actually gives a shit about. 

 

Her phone vibrates on her desk.

 

 

 _Couldn’t agree more_ , Arya thinks to herself cynically. It was never her desire to go to uni, but her parents insisted, so she went. Arya is too smart for her own good. None of the classes she’s taken thus far has challenged her, other than Gendry’s. She’s an ace student, and school has always seemed to come naturally to her, which Sansa has long envied, and her parents boast proudly about. So needless to say she’s been getting high marks with little effort and has been left unimpressed by her entire first year, with the exception being a man by the name of Professor Baratheon. He was the first teacher to ever give her a B as her final grade for a class in all her years at school. It was last semester, and she damn near caused a riot, but his amusement to her tirade enflamed her crush on him even more.

 

Despite her affection for Gendry and his classes that she’s taken, as far as uni goes, Arya would much rather spend her time taking more fencing classes with her instructor and coach, Syrio. And getting more practice in what her grumpy fuck of a trainer refers to as “ _proper sword fighting._ ” Syrio has repeatedly told both her and her parents that she has the potential to make it to the Olympics if she had more time to dedicate to the craft. Hound doesn’t prefer to give her that much credit, but he has begrudgingly agreed.

 

Arya texts back asking for the details on the upcoming competition and wonders if Gendry would be willing to go.

 

••

 

 

Gendry smiles as Arya’s text pops up on his phone hours later. He just finished typing up exams for all of his classes and was about to sit down for a quick bite of some heated leftover take away and to scroll the news. 

 

 

Instantly, Gendry’s cock responds. 

 

 

_She named her sword?_ Gendry thinks to himself, astonished. And at that moment he feels himself falling just a little deeper, a little farther for Arya Stark.

 

 

Which Gendry wouldn’t have done because that would have been wildly dangerous, especially next to a burning forge, but he really likes where this story is going so he’s going to play along.

 

 

Arya has Gendry’s untiring cock’s undivided attention. Leftover take away and sports headlines forgotten. 

 

 

He leans back into the couch and quickly pulls down on the zipper to free himself. Gendry has found that unlike with previous women he’s either dated or chatted up, he really enjoys texting with Arya. She’s fun to banter with in person and via text. Whereas some of the women in his past were plain boring or obnoxious over text, Arya’s personality translates through her typed words, so he feels like he’s actually talking to her. Which is one of his favourite activities to do with Arya, talking. It’s one of the many reasons why he finds her so attractive: how easy they communicate and tease each other. Another one of his favourite activities he’s discovered over the last couple of weeks that he really, _really_ enjoys is sexting with Arya. Because again, unlike other women he’s ventured to attempt that with, none of them have ever been as forward or as bold as Arya.

 

 

He leans his head back against the couch and laughs, phone in left hand, cock in right. 

 

 

It does not go unnoticed by Gendry that she’s quoting back to him the first thing he ever said to her. And it makes his cock harder if possible, his stomach flip and his heart palpitate in a way that it hasn’t been inspired to do in a very, very long time. 

 

 

Gendry is blushing like mad because his immediate answer is _yes_. It just so happens he likes on the rare occasion to feel the bite of pleasurable pain during sex. And to dole it out. He has indulged in fantasies of being submissive to Arya, letting her manhandle him and do whatever she desires. He isn’t drawn to her dominant nature for nothing. And he suspects she would really enjoy taking control over him. But he has a lot of dom in him, too, and he has a hunch that she’ll be more than happy to see that side of him as well.

 

 

_Goddamnit_ , Gendry thinks to himself and whimpers, grip around his cock tightening. He starts stroking regardless, already amped up by the visual she’s presented.

 

 

“ _Ah, fuck,_ ” Gendry whispers as he strokes his cock faster, his leaking head providing more than enough lubrication. Thanks to auto-correct, his texts back to her are still making sense as his thumb wildly types.

 

 

And that does it. As soon as his eyes skimmed _virginal pussy,_ he is done for. His orgasm comes on quick and intense after an entire afternoon spent daydreaming about Arya wantonly sucking his cock and swallowing every last drop he had to give her. Come runs down his slowing fingers and droplets soak into the fabric of his jeans where they’ve landed. It takes Gendry a minute to respond. 

 

 

He re-reads her last text a couple of times and finds himself riding on a high of orgasm induced endorphins mixed with the elation of knowing she wants to share that experience and that part of her life with him. A portion of her life outside of uni. Gendry bites his lip as he smiles.

 

 

_This bird_ , he thinks to himself, rolling his back at her.

 

 

••

 

It’s a quarter past nine, and Gendry is still sitting at his desk in the empty classroom. His evening class ended a while ago, and he’s been sitting in the darkened room with the overhead lights turned off; his desk lamp providing the only illumination, bathing the small area surrounding him in a warm glow. He’s been waiting for the building and car park to empty out first before attempting to make his way home. There always seems to be a bottleneck of traffic leaving uni on Thursday nights. He hasn’t heard anyone in the building for the last ten minutes so as soon as he’s done highlighting portions of a research article, Gendry plans to leave to go home and text Arya to help her get off this time. 

 

“Evening, professor,” Arya’s voice announces softly from the doorway.

 

His head whips up, eyes wide, then squinting because the light of the desk lamp only carries but so far.

 

“Fuckin’ _hell_ , how did I not hear you walk up?” Gendry gasps, surprised by her sudden silent appearance. 

 

She grins at him before turning around to close and _lock_ the door. He swallows. 

 

“I thought you were going to be busy slaving away writing monstrous papers again for another night?” He recaps the highlighter and throws it to the side.

 

Arya ignores the question and begins to walk towards him. As she gets closer, more light is cast upon her, revealing the thick document she’s holding and the skirt she’s wearing. 

 

“Is that what I think it is?” he asks in wonderment.

 

Arya triumphantly holds her paper up. “It’s finally finished,” she explains, handing it to him. Gendry reaches out to receive it, but his eyes are on her legs.

 

“No, I meant is that a skirt?” 

 

She snorts in laughter and moves closer behind his desk to perch her ass against the top in a half sit, one knee bending to rest her boot flat against the bottom drawer. 

 

“Yes, it’s a skirt, you pillock.” Arya shoves him playfully against the shoulder. “Did you not get my text? I sent you a photo before coming over.”

 

“No, I’ve had it on silent this whole time,” he tells her as he digs his phone out of his top desk drawer. 

 

 

Gendry smiles widely staring at the photo and then looks back to the real thing, eyes lingering on the orange skirt wrapped tightly around her hips and moves his eyes up to meet hers.

 

“You actually own one, then?”

 

She rolls her eyes and looks down embarrassingly to pick at the fabric. 

 

“ _Yes_ , I happen to own one.”

 

He reaches his hand out to hers to make her stop plucking at an imaginary string.

 

“It looks really nice on you.” Gendry’s voice is husky, conveying exactly how good he thinks she looks in it. 

 

Arya bites the corner of her lip and smiles, playing with his fingertips that are still in her hand. Without removing his hand from hers, he plops her heavy paper on the desk with his free hand and takes a gander. 

 

“You know this isn’t due until next week, right?” he asks while flipping through the first few pages. 

 

She shrugs her shoulders. “I was anxious to get it to you. More so because it gave me the excuse to come deliver it in person and collect my favour.” 

 

Gendry turns his head to look at her and sees a mischievous grin staring back at him. By the smouldering look of lust he sees in her eyes, he knows precisely which favour Arya is referring to. The one he begged to give her as they drove away from an empty field. He returns the grin and asks, “The coast clear?” She nods, and he slides his chair back and pulls her by the hand he’s holding to lead her to stand in front of him. 

 

“Sit,” he commands her softly. 

 

Gendry has lost count of the number of times he’s fantasized about feasting on Arya’s cunt atop his desk in his classroom. His heart begins to race at the reality that he’s about to finally bring her to orgasm under the attention of his tongue while she’s spread wide for him on the desk he grades her papers and assignments. 

 

Arya’s breathing starts to deepen, causing her black halter top to rise and show her bare midriff. Without taking her eyes off of his, she blindly clears a space behind her and easily lifts herself to sit on top of his desk. Legs not quite spread open but not modestly closed either as her booted feet swing lightly underneath her. She leans back a bit to rest her weight on her palms against his desk, which forces her breasts to jut out. And by the outline of her raised nipples, Gendry can tell she isn’t wearing a bra of any kind underneath. His gaze wanders over her while he stands up; hands coming down on her knees to slightly part her thighs so he can stand in between her legs. He keeps his fingertips grazing the outside of her bare thighs, every once in a while dipping his fingers underneath the hem of the skirt amongst the tassels lining the edge. The slight involuntary twitch of Arya’s hips tells him how wound up she is. But he’s going to make her wait a bit. 

 

“Will this upcoming competition be the third you’ve been waiting on before enacting your devious plot to show me how even more bloody amazing you are?”

 

She grins up at him. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Well, technically this’ll be my eighth competition.” 

 

Gendry’s fingertips freeze on her thighs.

 

“ _Excuse me?_  I’m sorry, what-“

 

“This one coming up will be my third _sword fighting_ competition. I’ve done five fencing competitions already.” 

 

His face must carry a look of either complete stupidity or astonished enamour, maybe both, because it makes her laugh adorably. Gendry likes her laugh. He would love the ability to help produce it and hear it more often. Like every day, perhaps. He tilts his head at her in stupefaction. 

 

“You’re fucking brilliant, you know that?” he asks her in admiration before swooping down to steal a kiss, hand rising to cup the back of her head. Arya moans happily in response and opens her lips under his seeking tongue, hand in his hair and tugging gently on his locks. He tries to take his time savoring her lips, her tongue, the sweet taste of her mouth. Too many days this week have been absent of the most divine kisses he’s ever had. They are entirely too good at kissing each other. Gendry has an inkling they are going to excel at other activities together as well. After several minutes of attempting to get their fill of each other’s lips after nearly a week of having to abstain, they press their foreheads together, catching their breath; her hands clutching his forearms as he cups her face. 

 

“I really liked that you insisted that I’m not a girl but a woman earlier today,” Arya breathes above a whisper. 

 

Gendry pulls back to look at her. “‘Cause you are,” he states matter of factly. He leans in to suck her bottom lip while he hooks his foot behind him to catch the leg of his chair to bring it closer. Pulling back again, he slowly lowers himself into his seat while his hands skim down her throat, over her sensitive tits, around her hips and eventually make their way over the tops of her bare thighs to cup her knees on the journey down, leaving her chest rising with each pass. He looks up at her when he’s seated again, hands gripping the inside of her knees to gently press outward, waiting for approval in her eyes. It’s granted, and he slowly urges her thighs to part wider in front of him, causing her skirt to rise up; his eyes now darting down to the apex of her thighs to see a pair of black knickers being revealed. He pulls his chair in closer and gently runs the back of his knuckles along her inner thigh starting at her knee and moving slowly up, making Arya’s breathing hitch.

 

“So it doesn’t bother you that I’m nine _teen_ , then?” she asks, voice sultry but also exposing a slight tremble; a reaction to his knuckles inching closer to where she wants them.

 

Gendry licks his lips when she spreads her thighs wider on her own accord. 

 

“No. You’re long past the legal age. And you certainly act and look like a woman to me,” Gendry breathes against her inner thigh before placing a wet kiss against her skin, causing Arya’s hips to thrust forward. “And you’ll be twenty in the autumn, besides.”

 

Arya hums in agreement, hips shifting on his desk, anxious for more attention. 

 

“So you don’t mind the age difference?”

 

“Does it look like I mind?” he answers with a quirk of an eyebrow, turning away from planting kisses further up her inner thigh. But then his brows furrow together. “Do you mind?” 

 

“No!” She says it so quickly and with such conviction that he jumps back just a tad. Arya catches that and smiles bashfully. “Sorry. No, I don’t mind at all. In fact, I really like it.” 

 

“Yeah?” he grins before placing an open-mouthed wet kiss halfway up her inner thigh. 

 

“ _Yeah_ ,” she sighs back. “Do you like that I’m younger than you?” Her hips are now shifting provocatively, and Gendry is having a hard time not immediately ripping her knickers to the side and crashing his mouth against what he knows will be the wettest, most delicious cunt he’s ever licked. Instead, he patiently places another strategic wet kiss before whispering, “ _Yes_.” 

 

Arya leans back on her elbows amongst the papers covering his desk and spreads her thighs completely wide open, resting the heel of each boot on the edge of the desk. His cock is nearly bursting through the zipper of his slacks at the sight of her wantonly presenting herself to him, her skirt now completely bunched up around her hips. 

 

“You like that I’m an inexperienced virgin, don’t you?” she asks him with a wolfish grin that contradicts her innocence. “You like knowing that you are the first man to ever lick my cunt. Isn’t that right?”

 

Gendry places a kiss on the sensitive juncture where inner thigh meets groin, right along the outside lining of her knickers. The kiss turns into a small love bite and makes her moan and gasp. He growls low in his throat with her thigh meat still clenched in between his teeth. The scent of her arousal is all he can smell, making his mouth drool a bit. Releasing his bite, he finally ends both of their torture when he drags her knickers to the side, exposing her cunt to him for the first time. Her swollen lips are opened invitingly, pink, and gleaming in wetness. Gendry leans forward to place a gentle kiss against the trimmed brown curls on top of her mound and inhales her scent deeply. Above him, Arya is panting, and he can tell she’s trying to refrain from moaning or making noise by the soft sounds that still manage to escape through her quick breaths. 

 

“You are so beautiful,” he exhales against her exposed, wet folds, and feeling his breath makes her shiver. Gendry grabs her by the hips and drags her ass to the edge of the desk, pulling her knickers down. Arya instinctively closes her legs so he can slip them down and around her boots, but he only manages to get it past one boot; her knickers now wrapped around her other ankle. He then spreads her thighs further apart and holds them down with his hands at the back of her knees until she’s wide open in front of his face in the most shameless position. Arya’s elbows slide against papers on his desk when he brings her closer, and she whimpers when he presses her thighs open and down. Gendry looks up at her and makes eye contact. The look of awe, lust and desperation in her eyes pleases him immensely.

 

“Yes,” he finally answers her earlier question, “I _really_ like that.” And then he delves his tongue deep into her folds at last. A long, low groan escapes him at her delicate tangy taste coating his tongue, and it reverberates against her swollen lips, making her breath hitch as Arya begins panting in earnest. He licks an agonizingly slow path up to the bundle of nerves he knows craves his attention the most and flicks it gently before sucking the flesh. 

 

Her hips instantly buck into his mouth, causing Gendry to moan into her cunt, overwhelmed by the sensation of her wet skin against his tongue and the taste of her arousal flowing in his mouth. Knowing that this is _Arya_ under his tongue makes his cock throb painfully. He looks up at her quickly and sees that she is watching him and has her fist in between her teeth. For a brief moment, he wonders if his facial scruff is irritating her, but the worry subsides as her hips begin to thrust against his mouth, encouraging and asking for more. As a soft whimper escapes around her fist, Gendry realizes she’s clamping down to prevent herself from crying out. She is a loud one, after all. He releases her clit from the suction of his mouth with a proud smile before he begins lapping his tongue lazily against and in between her puffy lips, exploring her deeply and with abandon; holding her thighs open the entire time. Gendry has to hold her thighs down a tad harder when she begins bucking against his tongue fervently, soft moans muffled around her bitten down fist. 

 

With one hand still holding a thigh open, he retrieves his other so he can plunge two fingers inside her without preamble. She’s so incredibly slick that they slide in with ease. Arya’s gasp turns into a sharp groan in response to feeling him fill her suddenly. He fucks her with his fingers slowly, reaching deeply before curling them and finding that spot right _there_ that has her panting heavier. Gendry diligently laps his tongue against her clit while his fingers reproduce what he wishes his cock was doing instead. Her restrained groans are the reward for his effort. As his tongue and fingers continue tenaciously, he chances another glance up and sees the incredible view from between her thighs of Arya leaning low on her elbows on top of his desk, chest heaving, head rolled back, and the empty rows of desks behind her faded into the darkness. 

 

Never did he think he’d know the sight of Arya’s cunt, let alone what it tastes like, how it feels against his tongue, in his mouth, surrounding his fingers. But now he knows, and he’s pretty damned sure from this moment forward that he’s going to want to gorge himself on her cunt at every hour of every day. As much as he wants this moment to last for as long as possible so he can continue feasting on her, he’s apparently doing too good of a job because Arya’s thighs are trembling and beginning to close around his head; her cunt tightening and fluttering around his fingers. Her clit is engorged under his tongue’s never-ending flicking. She’s flat on her back now on the desk, panting loudly around her poor red fist and reaches her free hand to grasp his head. 

 

“Oh! _Fuck, fuck, Gen-_ “Arya breathily begins to tell him, but he already knows. He knew about eighteen seconds ago. She bites down hard on her fist again, her eyes pinched closed and face in anguish as she struggles to not alert anyone that she is currently coming in her professor’s mouth. Gendry manages to hold down one thigh as he sucks her clit and uncurls his fingers to fuck her hard through every crest and peak of her orgasm, his ministrations unrelenting. Her jerking hips begin to slow down to a gentle wave against his tongue for several minutes until they stop moving altogether. The sound of her labored breathing punctuates every delicate kiss he places on her swollen cunt. Gendry retrieves his fingers gently, filled with male pride at the disappointed whimper Arya emits and the sight of the aftermath of making her come. Immediately he plunges his fingers into his mouth because he still hasn’t had enough of tasting her. 

 

Arya struggles to sit up to watch him. Their eyes meet as he slides his fingers out of his mouth. He leans forward to nuzzle her curls with his nose and deposits soft kisses on her mound and around her sensitive skin as he tells her in between each kiss, “You…taste…absolutely…fucking… _amazing_.” A low whine escapes her throat as she reaches forward between her thighs to grasp his shirt and pull him up till he’s standing between her legs and kissing her. She laves her tongue across his stubbled chin dripping in her arousal, making him moan before she brings her lips back to his and shares her taste. Gendry reaches for her left hand to examine the deep bite marks she left behind to restrain herself from making too much noise and kisses each mark with reverence. With a smile, Arya brings his face back to hers with the hand he’s kissing. As he reaches up to grab her neglected tits, rolling her hard nipples through the fabric, Gendry is painfully aware of how hard his cock is. And how close in proximity it currently is to her naked, sopping wet cunt that he just thoroughly pleasured with his tongue. And how very badly his cock wants to be touched in any way by her as they make out on his desk. 

 

Without warning, Arya rips her lips from his and asks, “Gendry?” Her hand is clutching his shirt a little tighter while she looks up at him, her wide grey eyes filled with apprehensive hope. 

 

“Yeah?” he breathes out, for a moment fearful that he’s upset her in some way. 

 

She swallows before answering him. “What are your plans tonight?” 

 

“Whatever your plans happen to be,” he tells her immediately without even having to think. 

 

Arya’s gaze goes from amused to earnest. 

 

“Can we go back to your flat?” she whispers.

 

The atmosphere is suddenly dense with the implication of what going back to his flat means. 

 

“You sure?” he gently asks her, wanting nothing more than to flip her over his shoulder and run to his car _right fucking now_. But he also needs her to be sure. Because despite all of their other improper explorations of one another, _this_ is different. There’s no going back from this. He won’t be able to give Arya her virginity back if she regrets this later. This will be crossing, jumping over and destroying so many professional, moral and social etiquette lines.

 

Not to mention, his career and heart are at stake. 

 

 _As if it wasn’t already_ , Gendry thinks to himself. 

 

Arya nods firm, eyes serious. “I’m _very_ sure.” There’s no hesitation when she speaks; her voice strong. 

 

He leans his forehead against hers, cups the side of her face and smiles before he whispers, “ _Let’s go_.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hai! 💞Thank you again for all the love and comments and kudos for this little story of mine!!! 
> 
> This chapter picks up right where the last one left off. I've included two photo sets for this chapter, one of which illustrates what Gendry's flat looks like.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this "one-handed read"! 😈
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 _Fucking traffic!_  both Gendry and Arya unknowingly think at the same time in their separate cars.

 

••

 

“If this bloody light doesn’t change…” Arya mutters dangerously under her breath, gripping the steering wheel as though she wants to choke it to death.

 

••

 

“Move, you fucking knob head!” Gendry yells at the car in front of him.

 

••

 

“Aw, fuck off!” both Gendry and Arya unknowingly yell at the same time in their separate cars when the light turns red again before they’re able to make it through the long queue.

 

••

 

Arya rests her forehead on the steering wheel and growls loudly in frustration. Her pussy is still pulsating and dripping wet, soaking her black knickers entirely through. The thigh shaking, mind-bending orgasm Gendry brought her to with his mouth and fingers has maddeningly left her craving even more. She expected him to be gifted in giving oral pleasure, based solely on the fact that he’s a fantastic kisser. But she didn’t expect for him to completely ruin her from ever being able to achieve pleasure under her own fingers again that could match the height and level of exquisiteness Gendry brought her to. Now that her orgasm has long passed, the feeling of being sated has been replaced with a deep throbbing that she knows only he can put an end to. Arya no longer wants to fuck Gendry, she _needs_ to. She can not let this day end without losing her virginity to him and feeling him on top of her, under her, behind her at last. She can not go to sleep tonight without having finally experienced the feeling of his thick cock, filling her whole and claiming her as his.

 

••

 

“Finally!” Gendry exclaims when the light turns green, and he and Arya are free to drive. His flat is now only ten minutes away after making it through this blasted intersection. His cock is still achingly hard and has been ever since he grabbed Arya’s face for one last fierce kiss behind his classroom door before she unlocked it and left, quiet as a shadow with a seductive grin. His heart is racing, feeling overwhelmed with lust, excitement, and a tiny pinch of dread. Lust and excitement are winning at the moment in overtaking his brain.

 

••

 

She is finally able to pass around the car that has been stuck between her and Gendry since that last infuriating stoplight. Her stomach is rolling with anticipation and nerves as _Siri_ informs her that they are now five minutes away from their destination. _What if he changes his mind once we get there?_ The thought suddenly pops into the forefront of her mind. He seemed as eager as her back in his classroom, but as they near closer to his flat, Arya can’t help but wonder how she’ll handle the disappointment and embarrassment if he decides it’s not worth the risk. That she’s not worth the risk.

 

••

 

As his favourite pub comes into view, Gendry starts to sweat because, within a few turns, he and Arya will be arriving at his flat. He sees that she has finally caught up with him in the rearview mirror and he hopes she’s still looking forward to this. But he has to remind himself and his cock that no matter what, if she decides at the last minute she isn’t ready or doesn’t want to or even if she wants to turn right back around and go home as soon as they park, he will be nothing but an absolute gentleman. And then he’ll go wank himself into a stupor.

 

Gendry realizes he probably should have spent this ride home focused more on the consequences that will occur once they reach their destination if she hasn’t changed her mind. And he has thought about it, just in the back of his mind instead; tallying a long list of how many ways this can go tits up _(figuratively and literally)_ after they’ve had sex. The two most worrisome consequences at the top of the list are:

 

• _Getting caught, getting sacked, and becoming a disgraced former professor._

 

• _Having my heart broken._

 

After finally reaching his flat building and finding a spot to park on the street, he turns the ignition off and checks himself in the visor mirror before getting out. He saw in the rearview that Arya found a spot to park around the corner and starts walking down the sidewalk towards where he saw her car go. Before he’s made it halfway, she appears around the edge of the building, and within a few seconds of looking at him, she flashes the most gorgeous, lit up smile he thinks he’s ever seen on her beautiful face. Her smile is contagious, and instantly he feels his face matching hers. She even begins _skipping_ to him to close the distance faster, making him laugh. He can’t help feeling soft when she loops her arm around his like a proper lady so he can lead her up to his flat. Gendry has never seen her act so giddy before and it delights him to know he’s the reason.

 

In no time at all, his list of consequences go up in flames as he looks down at her hand wrapped around his bicep and into her smiling eyes filled with exhilaration and affection for _him_. Gendry can find another job, he reckons; he’s a master blacksmith after all with a PhD. As for his heart, he’s willing to gamble with it to see where this could potentially lead them. And even if at the end of that path there is nothing but anguish awaiting him, he knows it’ll be worth it. Because she is.

 

••

 

After parallel parking her car, Arya checked herself in the visor mirror and fluffed her hair a bit. She took a deep breath and released it before getting out, preparing herself for the worst case scenario of meeting Gendry on the sidewalk outside his flat only to be told he doesn’t think this is a good idea after all. But when she rounded the corner and saw him, his expression mirrored her own fears, as though he were also preparing himself for her to turn him down. The confirmation that he wants this just as badly as she, gave Arya such a rush of relief and happiness, it caused her to act horribly girly and skip to him, but it made him laugh, and his bright blue eyes twinkle, so it was well worth it.

 

Gendry is leading her to the front entrance of his building when she suddenly stops walking to ask, “Do any uni students or faculty live in your building?”

 

He’s quick to shake his head. “No, just a bunch of professional single lads and a few young couples, but that’s it,” Gendry reassures her. “Good call, though. Nice one,” he winks and smiles at her as they start walking again. Every time she receives praise of any sort from him, it makes her stomach flip.

 

They arrive at the front entrance, and as Gendry reaches for the door handle, he quickly glances down at her and asks a simple but loaded question: “Shall we?” She looks confidently back at him and responds, “Yes, lets.”

 

Arya’s hand never leaves his arm as they walk up three flights of stairs, despite not needing his assistance. She likes the feeling of him courting her and treating her like a woman. Like a lady. Even if she doesn’t consider her self to be much of one.

 

“Sorry for the lack of a lift. I’m afraid I might be too lowly for the likes of you,” Gendry teases, but she senses that there’s a touch of insecurity there.

 

She shrugs her shoulders. “Nonsense. I rarely take the lift at my place, only if I’ve come home pissed. Better exercise for you.” His ducked head and bashful smile do not go missed by her, and it inspires a warm feeling of adore in her chest.

 

Within no time at all, they’re walking through the entrance leading to his floor and find themselves standing in front of his flat while he digs his keys out of his pocket. She leans against the wall next to the door and is suddenly reminded of the first time they met up at the smithy alone. Now, a month later, Arya is currently waiting to walk through the threshold of Gendry’s flat. _Professor Baratheon’s_ flat. While he inserts the key into the lock and turns, her heart begins to pound, thinking about all the things he’s going to do to her once they’re inside. Things way beyond what can now be recalled as an innocent finger fucking.

 

The door opens, and they both stare ahead inside his dark flat, then at each other. Gendry’s hand slides to her lower back to gently offer her entrance first with a soft smile. She smiles in return and walks through the door as though she owns the place and wastes no time at all in feeling walls, flipping light switches she assumes must turn on lights and spinning around slowly to take in the now illuminated surroundings. She can hear Gendry snicker as he closes and locks the door.

 

“Finding yourself at home, then?” his amused question sounds behind her as he tosses his keys onto a side table.

 

“Yeah, hope that’s not a problem,” Arya flirts back.

 

“Never,” is his soft reply while he stares at her.

 

Arya places her keys on the breakfast bar in the kitchen and looks over at where the dining space should be but instead has been turned into a little office with a charming sitting nook in front of a large window and a desk next to his overflowing bookcase. She’s smiling at the number of books he has, so many that there are stacks more piled on the floor and inside the nook. Arya has daydreamed often about what his flat must look like, and she has to admit that she’s impressed with his choice of modern minimalistic decor in muted colours of white and cream that contrasts nicely against his fine black leather furniture. This doesn’t look like the flat of a boy who goes to uni, filled with Ikea furniture, football team flags hanging on the wall, and a floor littered in beer cans. This is the flat of a grown man. An adult. And it is a surprising new turn on.

 

“Your flat is lovely,” Arya tells him as she ambles around the living room, reading the titles of the books stacked on the coffee table. He’s now standing in the kitchen behind the breakfast bar, still watching her.

 

“Thanks! I’m sure your gaff is much more impressive.”

 

“Hardly. It’s not nearly this sophisticated. Look at the number of books in here! And I thought _I_ was a book nerd. You put me to shame, sir.” She flashes him a grin, and her compliment makes him blush.

 

“Yeah, ever since you told me you love to read, I’ve been wanting to show you my collection,” he tells Arya while rubbing the back of his head, almost embarrassed.

 

She’s picked up and is flipping through a photography coffee table book of ancient swords that have been excavated from lands that are believed to have once been Braavos.

 

“I told you that the first time we chatted in open lab, two weeks into last semester.” Arya closes the book and looks at him. “You remembered that?”

 

“And you remembered the first time we chatted was two weeks into the semester during open lab,” he offers with a shrug and a smile. “It was sunny that day, too, if I recall, and you were wearing dungarees and Doc Martins.” Now she’s the one blushing. They stare at each other, smiling for a beat.

 

“Would you like something to drink? I have-“ Gendry opens the fridge and leans in. “-lager, chardonnay, I think I might have a bottle of red, um, also water?”

 

“Why, are you nervous, Baratheon?”

 

He pops his head out of the fridge quick at that with eyebrows raised in question.

 

Arya smiles at him and teases, “Do you need a bit of liquid courage?”

 

He closes the fridge, shaking his head and smirking at her. “No, _I_ definitely don’t need it.”

 

She looks at him with a sarcastic expression and places the book back down. “You suggesting that _I’m_ nervous?”

 

Gendry’s eyes shift from playful to predatory as he begins sauntering around the kitchen island towards her.

 

That sarcastic smile disappears quickly and is replaced with a bit of a wide eyed lustful stare.

 

“Well, when you look at me like that…”

 

He smiles seductively right before he grabs the back of her head and presses his lips slowly against hers for the first time since they arrived, making her melt into him. Her hands glide up his torso over his button down shirt. Gendry’s kisses become more demanding as she rakes her nails down his solid pecs, confirming that he is in no need of liquid courage while he sucks on her full bottom lip, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. It instantly reminds her of how he performed the same action on her clit just under an hour ago. His mouth still holds a bit of her taste, which sends a jolt of possessiveness through her.

 

After a moment, he pulls back and says, “I hope you don’t think I was trying to get you drunk to-I was just-“ He starts stuttering over his words as he registers how the offer may have come across.

 

“You’re completely daft if you think I actually thought that,” Arya tells him before she brings his face back down to hers and kisses him firmly. “Now, show me the rest of your place,” she whispers with a mischievous smile.

 

Gendry reaches for her hands holding his face and begins walking backwards, pulling her with him. “C’mere,” he whispers back with a grin. The look he sends Arya inflames her loins, burning her up from within. She follows him as he turns forward and keeps holding both of her hands in his behind his back. They walk out of the living room and turn down a dark hallway that she thinks must lead to his bedroom and more importantly, his bed. This must be it, the rest of his flat since she doesn’t see any other hallways. So she assumes by the sexy as hell smile he gave her before bringing her this far that they are about to reach their final destination on this tour. And the most critical stop. Arya is filled with adrenaline and anticipation.

 

He stops them before reaching the end of the hall where his bedroom door is and instead reaches to turn on the light switch on the wall next to him. But before he flips it, Gendry asks, “Ready?”

 

“For sex? Yeah, let's go.”

 

His shoulders quake with laughter. “No, that’s not-I mean, that’s very good to know, but I meant for what I’m about to show you.”

 

“Oh! Okay, yes.” Arya grips his hand tighter out of embarrassment and for dragging this out.

 

Gendry squeezes her hand back in apology. “It’ll only take a sec.”

 

Light floods the hallway, and she blinks her eyes a few times to adjust, but once she sees it, her jaw drops and she lets go of his hand to walk around him and stare at the glass display case mounted against the length and width of the hallway that holds a variety of exquisite swords, axes and even a couple of wooden bows. She’s standing in front of the display, eyes bouncing excitedly between each item, amazement and admiration shining through on her face. Arya begins to smile, eyes never leaving the impressive weapons before her.

 

“ _Hello, daddy,_ ” she greets the display in a husky voice. Gendry instantly groans low in his throat in response. Arya doesn’t need to look over to know that the bulge in his slacks has just gotten even larger. She walks closer to the display case with her arms held open wide and presses herself against the glass in a hug, making Gendry laugh. Finally, she turns to look at him, her cheek pressed against the glass.

 

“You made all of these, didn’t you?” Arya squints her eyes at him and grins.

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods his head politely and grins back at her.

 

She walks away from the glass to take another admiring look. “They’re fucking _magnificent_ , Gendry.” They also happen to be a major aphrodisiac for Arya.

 

As she continues stepping back, she walks right into him after he quickly approaches her from behind, body now flush against the back of hers. Gendry grabs her hips and nuzzles his nose into her hair to push it to the side so he can kiss her neck. Immediately her eyes begin to shut as he licks a path up her neck to right below her ear where he sucks hard, causing her to moan and reach her hands back to grab his legs and ass.

 

“Think maybe I could inspire you later to address me the way you did my swords?” Gendry asks his tone low and gravely. The question and his voice make her nipples tighten, her pussy lips swell and cause her to grind her ass back against him.

 

“You’ll have to earn it, first,” Arya can’t help but taunt, knowing damn well he will.

 

He bucks his erection against her ass in response, making her skirt rise and her pulse quicken. “I plan on it,” Gendry whispers into her ear.

 

That’s it. She’s had enough of waiting and teasing. Arya spins around to face him and instantaneously leaps into his arms to wrap her bare, toned legs around his waist and crashes her opened lips against his; their tongues already seeking out one another. He catches her without a moment of hesitation, his large hands gripping each ass cheek through the fabric of her skirt that is now bunched up around her hips. Their kisses are wild and desperate as Gendry walks them forward, pressing her back up against the sturdy display case glass. Apparently, he’s had enough of waiting, too, as he begins rutting his hard length against her soaked knickers, pushing her harder into the glass and driving her completely mad with want and desire. That deep throbbing need inside of her is only getting worse with each push of his confined cock against her aching centre.

 

Arya tears her lips away from his to beseech him. “Gendry, please-“

 

“ _Please what?_ ” is his gruff demand. She presumes that he needs to hear it, hear the words in her voice telling him what he’s only ever imagined her asking. The same question she’s been dying to ask of him every time they’ve been intimate with each other.

 

“Please fuck me, Gendry,” Arya asks him pleadingly. Her hands grab his face, fingers splayed wide and eyes showing her slight anxiety at the possibility of his refusal.

 

She needn’t be so worried.

 

“Gladly, love,” he answers her request, voice rough around the edges before he recaptures her lips.

 

A moment later, Arya demands with a lustful gaze, “Take me to bed, Baratheon.” Gendry smiles widely at her before doing just that. They continue kissing as he walks them back off the glass and carries her towards his room. She saw plenty of flat surfaces in his living room and kitchen that she already has plans for later. But tonight, she wants Gendry to fuck her for the first time in his bed because she wants him to be reminded of her every time he crawls into bed at night. Arya is confident he’s shared this mattress with previous lovers and girlfriends before and she has this deep-seated need to replace the memory of each and every one of them. A jealousy and sense of possession of which she’s never felt the likes of before.

 

He fumbles for the light switch in his bedroom, holding her with just one arm while still plundering her lips. A soft, warm glow fills the space before he lays her across his bed. Gendry shifts his hands to support his weight as he leans over her, still standing next to the bed with her thighs clutched around him. Arya begins unbuttoning his shirt with feverish haste, soft pants escaping her while he continues to grind his cock against her wet knickers and sucks on her neck. As she tugs his shirt out of his pants to finish unbuttoning the rest, he slides one hand over her tit and down her hip until he’s pulling one side of her skirt off. When she finishes with his shirt, Gendry stands upright to slide her skirt the rest of the way down over her curvaceous hips and legs. Arya lifts each leg for him while he takes her boots off, then sits up as he divests himself of his shirt, her eyes and hands roaming over every thick muscle and rippling ab exposed to her for the first time. These muscles were forged under the use of his hammer and to see the dedication he puts into his creations and work reflected on his body makes her impossibly wetter. Arya whimpers at the sight and feel of him beneath her hands and bites down hard on her bottom lip. Swiftly she pulls off her halter top and throws it to the side, then immediately reaches for his belt.

 

Gendry makes her yelp suddenly when he roughly pushes her back down onto the bed, making her perky tits bounce before lavishing her hard pink nipples with attention from his adoring lips and tongue, groaning while he does so. She throws her head back deeper into the soft sheets, moaning and holding his head to her tits as he quickly switches back and forth between sucking and fondling each one, giving them both equal care.

 

“You have the most gorgeous pair of tits I’ve ever seen,” he whispers against a nipple wet in his saliva. It dawns on her that this is the first time he’s seen her topless as well, besides in a photograph. _A lot of firsts tonight,_ Arya thinks giddily.

 

Before she allows herself to get too carried away in the fantastic sensation of him sucking on and biting her nipples, she pushes him back with a grunt until she’s sitting up and reaches for his belt once again, determined. Gendry chuckles huskily and reaches over to his nightstand to dig through the top drawer. The belt is sliding out of the loops when his face changes. She noticed it when he stopped looking at her and started looking into the drawer he was rummaging blindly through instead.

 

“What is it?” Arya asks, flinging the belt onto the floor.

 

He turns away from her to dig both hands into the drawer. Obviously looking for something and not finding it, he then opens the bottom drawer, but after moving a few things around, he shuts the drawer hastily.

 

“Gendry?” she asks concerned when he walks out of the room to the loo down the hall.

 

“Hold on! I think I might have some in here…FUCK!”

 

“What is it?!” Arya’s voice is borderline worried and irritated.

 

He walks quickly back into the room and picks up his shirt off the floor to throw it back on urgently. Arya’s stomach fills with cold dread. She sits on her knees on top of the bed, hands on hips and demands, “Gendry! What the fuck!”

 

That finally catches his attention. He stares up at her wide eyed until it occurs to him how this must look. Gendry’s shoulders sag as he continues to haphazardly button his shirt back up and walks over to her to explain.

 

“I thought I still had some condoms left, but I don’t. I haven’t had a reason to buy any since, well, _you know_. Meeting you,” he explains shyly and gives her a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back! Just gonna run to the shop around the-“

 

“Stop,” she tells him softly and grabs his hands to prevent him from buttoning any further. Relief floods through her.

 

“But-“ he starts, looking confused.

 

Arya takes a deep breath and lets out a slightly shaky one.

 

“When was the last time you were tested?” she asks.

 

His brows pinch while he reflects. “Sometime right before last semester started. Now that I think about it, I actually haven’t had sex since I was tested. Not because I had anything! I’ve never had anything, ever,” Gendry rushes to assure her. “But I should still go buy some because fuck knows what I’ll do if I get you preg-“

 

“Gendry!” she grabs his face desperately and forces him to stop and look at her. “I’m on the pill. We’re both clean. I don’t want to lose my virginity while you wear plastic, _please._  I want to feel _you,_ all of you,” Arya implores him while she stands on her knees on the mattress to reach him better and nuzzles her nose against his, bringing him closer to the side of the bed; his hands reaching for her hips and his breathing becoming ragged at her words.

 

“Wait, how long have you been on the pill?” Gendry asks, a bit dazed.

 

Arya smiles at him and begins to unbutton his shirt again. “My mum put me on the pill when I was thirteen, and I’ve been on it ever since because she was so scared of any potential scandal I might bring on the family ‘cause I was such a rebellious, wild child growing up. She didn’t know what to expect for when I reached puberty.” Arya reaches the last button and looks up at him. “Joke was on her. Still a virgin at nineteen.”

 

“Not for much longer,” Gendry promises in a low tone, and it makes her shiver. “Are you sure you don’t want to use condoms?” he asks in a gruff voice that clearly indicates that he wants the answer to be yes, but he’s still going to be a gentleman and double check.

 

“ _Yes,_ ” she sighs against his lips, rubbing her face against his and begins kissing his cheeks, his temple, his jaw and anywhere she can reach. “I want to feel the moment you come inside me. I want to feel your come dripping down my thighs later,” Arya whispers into his ear, and his grip tightens almost painfully on her hips and ass.

 

“ _Fuck! Arya,_ ” he grunts before he smashes his lips against hers and begins tearing his shirt off his shoulders while she undoes his slacks and quickly pushes them down his hips. Gendry kicks them off while her fingers dig into his boxer briefs to reveal his thick hardness. His cock bobs in the air as he kicks the boxer briefs down and off his legs and toes his shoes and socks off. He looks absolutely fucking glorious completely naked, like a work of art; all hard, thick muscle with his proud cock jutting up, glistening head begging for her touch. She reaches to stroke him once, twice, before Gendry grabs her by the back of her thighs and pulls on them harshly towards him until she is flying backwards and landing in the centre of the mattress with her legs splayed wide and breathless.

 

Arya watches him between her opened thighs as he gazes down at her adoringly with overwhelming heat in his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Arya,” he tells her and shakes his head, as though he can’t fathom how he came to be so lucky to have her in his bed. No one has ever called her beautiful outside of her family. She’s been told she’s hot. She’s been told she’s cute. Not beautiful. Her heart swells in her chest for this man now crawling his way towards her onto his bed.

 

Gendry sits back on his haunches and pulls her knickers off for the second time tonight. Arya watches as his mouth straightaway seeks her wet cunt without the preamble kisses up her thigh from earlier tonight. Now, he’s consumed with want and need as he holds her thighs apart and sucks hard and obscenely on the entirety of her wet flesh opened before him, making her cry out and dig her fingers into his hair. He groans at the sound, so happy to finally be able to hear her loud moans. This time around Gendry laps at her with his tongue like a man dying of thirst; his groans of appreciation louder than they had been in his classroom. The frantic sloppiness in which he licks her drives her mad, and soon her thighs begin to tremble again around his gorgeous face. Arya tries to keep her eyes open to watch as she comes in his mouth, but when he hums against her clit, she throws her head back and moans loudly, not at all caring if his neighbours can hear.

 

Her breathing is still laboured as he slinks up her body and settles himself between her legs. She feels his cock, thick and heavy against her thigh, smearing her skin with his leaking arousal. Arya enjoys how deeply intimate it feels.

 

“You’re entirely too good at that,” she finally rasps out.

 

He supports his weight on one elbow above her as he threads his fingers through her hair, smiling at the compliment and looking into her eyes as though he’s trying to communicate a million different things at the same time. Arya cups the back of his head and smiles up at him encouragingly. He swallows before he speaks softly.

 

“I hope you know that…I’ve never, ever done this before. You’re the only one and will be the only one,” Gendry explains to her, and she knows he’s referring to other students. He lowers his face to hers and breathes against her lips, “I fancy you like mad, Arya. You’re all I ever think about it seems, for months now.” Her heart races at the sincerity of his voice and words, and she threads her fingers through his soft, tousled hair.

 

She smiles cheerfully against his lips and whispers, “I know, I believe you. And I hope you know that I wouldn’t have done this with just anyone. You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted this with. You’re the only man I’ve ever _wanted._ ” Gendry’s eyes take on that predatory gleam again before his tongue swoops in between her lips and kisses her. Arya pulls back from his lips and reaches down between them for his cock and strokes him, causing him to push into her hand with a soft moan.

 

“Now fuck me, Gendry,” she commands. He emits a low growl deep in his throat and pushes his forehead against hers while he aligns their hips and hovers over her; Arya’s legs coming up to circle his waist with her feet locked behind his lower back. His hand reaches down to cover hers that is stroking his cock, and they both bring his thick, leaking head over to rub against her wet lips. It’s the first time bare skin meets bare skin, and the contact makes them both gasp and breathe deeply. Arya lets go of his hand to hold on to the sides of his face as they both look down to watch and moan together as he rubs her swollen clit with his bare cock. He continues to tease them both by pushing the head into her folds down to where her entrance is, then back up again to her clit, coating his throbbing cock in her wetness. She’s panting harder with each pass he makes up and down her cunt, the head of his cock pushing in just a little deeper into her entrance each time before he pulls it back out and up again to rub over her sensitive clit. It’s making her even wetter, and her hips begin gyrating, trying to push down onto the head when he brings it slowly back down from her clit. This time, Gendry lets the head linger at her entrance and begins to push into her slowly when she pushes back, indicating she’s ready.

 

Their eyes snap to each other, both breathing heavy. “Please,” Arya moans, and quickly they kiss as his hips thrust into her, the head and top part of his thick shaft now completely sheathed inside of her, making them both gasp. Oh, Gendry’s _much_ larger than any of her dildos, and he’s not even entirely inside her yet. But it doesn’t hurt, the stretch feels delicious and makes her crave more of his length and girth. She wants to know the feeling of being filled to the brim with him.

 

“ _Oh fuck_ , more, more-“ she pleads before Gendry begins to thrust again and burrows his face into her neck to suck hard on the delicate spot that she knows _he_ knows makes her eyes roll back into her head. Regardless of how sopping wet she is, her cunt is so tight that his cock meets resistance and only goes deeper by another couple inches before he slowly pulls nearly all the way out until just the tip is resting inside, making Arya moan _more_ _more_ the entire time. Gendry bites down hard on her neck when he suddenly slams his hips flush into hers, thrusting every thick inch of his swollen cock deep inside her, bottoming out just like he promised her he would.

 

Arya cries out loudly at the intense shooting pleasure and the pressure of being completely filled with him; legs and arms clenching and slightly shaking around him as he keeps his hips still and waits for her to get adjusted, breathing _oh fuck_ harshly into her neck. Lifting his head, he looks down into her face and sees her eyes squeezed shut in what he mistakes for pain.

 

“Oh no, no, Arya, _fuck,_ I’m sorry, was that too rough? You said more, I- _Did I hurt you?_ ” he anxiously questions her, but before he gets too spun up, Arya lifts her hand lazily to touch his face, eyes still shut.

 

“Shut up, love,” she moans at him, and her fingers blindly navigate on his face to rest against his mouth to back up her request; lips curling into a smile under her fingers. Arya presses her head into the sheets, arching her back to shift her hips experimentally, feeling all the delightful new places within her cunt that his cock touches that none of her toys have discovered before.

 

Her eyes flutter open, and the last remains of Gendry’s concern melt off his face when he sees her heavy lidded blown out pupils.

 

Arya reaches for his lips and whispers, “You feel _so fucking good,_ do that again,” which is all the encouragement he needs before kissing her deeply and pulling out to thrust back into her just as hard as before, making her cry out and scratch her nails down his back and chest this time. Gendry slows down his pace and takes her more gently after that, but still deeply, hitting the back of her cunt with every single stroke, making her whine.

 

“ _Fucking hell, Arya,_ you’re so unbelievably tight and wet and perfect,” he whimpers, his forehead pressed against hers, thrusting into her harder now, a little faster. It doesn’t take long for their skin to become covered in sweat as they slide against one another, their hips finding the perfect rhythm. This feels like absolute perfection. Feeling the weight of Gendry settled in between her hips, inside of her, _taking her_ is divine. Seeing him hover over her as he watches where they’re joined with intense interest, his muscles tense and firm as he cants his hips and begins slamming into her again makes her throat raw from the deep guttural moans he drags out of her. Knowing it’s Gendry’s cock entering her for the first time, Gendry fucking her, Gendry moaning about how tight she feels is enough to make her come. But before she does, Arya has been dying to try this little trick she learned on how to flip an opponent off of you. It’s something she’s been fantasizing about doing since, oh, she met him.

 

She reaches for his hips to urge him to slow down before hooking her leg around the back of his thigh and using her hips for leverage, she quickly pushes him over onto his back, now straddling him and never losing their connection. Gendry gasps out of surprise and moans in pleasure at the new angle while Arya lets out a loud, long groan as she continues to sink further down on to his long length. He feels even _deeper_ in this position if that were at all possible, to the point where it almost hurts, so she adjusts her knees around his hips to find the right angle to ride him.

 

“ _My little wolf,_ ” Gendry addresses her with a salacious grin before guiding her hips. She grins back at him with her hands splayed out on his firm chest. After a couple of minutes, Arya keeps him deep in her in this position, only sliding up just a bit before grinding back down, the pain fading away and replaced with intense pleasure when she can rub her clit down against his base covered in coarse dark curly hair. Her hips pick up speed and Gendry takes that as his cue to thrust hard up into her, holding her hips purposely down against his when he does so to make sure she takes it all.

 

“Ahhh!” she yells out, her head thrown back. That deep place he just touched, it feels absolutely primal, and it shoots straight to her heart and then to her brain. Chest heaving, Arya looks back down at him, eyes meeting his intense blue gaze, and thinks to herself that he looks so fucking gorgeous, all rippling muscle and pure man _and_ _mine_. She leans forward so her face is hovering over his, nipples dragging deliciously against the hair scattered across his chest, and she meets every one of of his thrusts. This angle pushes her clit more firming against the base of his cock, and she begins to feel that incredible pressure build in her core.

 

After another deep, hard thrust that ignites that primal feeling that is entirely new within her, Arya pushes back against his cock, squeezes his throat lightly, and confidently proclaims to him in a growl, “ _Mine._ ” Gendry’s hips begin to pick up pace at that; fingers digging possessively rough into her ass as the hand around his throat squeezes a tad harder, he leans forward and confirms in a deep, dangerous voice, “ _Mine._ ” It makes her cunt clench tightly around him, causing his eyes to flutter closed for a moment before looking back at her and wrapping his hand into her sweaty hair at the back of her neck and bringing her down to rest her forehead against his. The way in which he’s taking her and still has control while she’s straddling him is making her incoherent and delirious; his thrusts becoming faster and filling her whole with every stroke. The sound of hard wet fucking and their frantic pants and moans fill the air. His cock begins to swell even larger within her, making her breath hitch around a groan.

 

“Arya, I- _aw fuck_ -can’t last much-“ he begins to tell her, and just the knowledge that Gendry is about to come inside of her is enough to send her over that blissful edge, filling her veins with pure euphoria. Arya begins pounding her cunt harder against his hips, and she comes within seconds on his pulsating cock with a loud wail; the most intense orgasm of her life enrapturing her with waves of crashing pleasure only to rise again and again with each of his continued frantic deep thrusts. Gendry’s hips drive _hard_ and fast up into hers, prolonging her orgasm, and he wraps his muscled arms around her to hold her as close to him as possible as he pumps his hips one last time and spills deep within her, moaning her name loudly into her neck against her rapid pulse and following her into sweet abyss.

 

Arya is lying completely on top of him, her face buried in his neck and he in hers. Their panting breaths fan over each other’s sweaty skin. Gendry’s cock is still firm inside her, arms still wrapped tightly around her shoulders. Her heart is bursting with contentment and what she has long suspected is love taking root in her chest. She could stay here in this position with him forever, she reckons. But the new muscles that he has helped her discover tonight are aching in protest, so she lifts her head from his neck and peers down at him, struck by the look she sees in his eyes.

 

This has changed things. And he felt it too. Arya sees that same feeling in her heart reflected in his eyes, and they both stare at each other, observing the moment. Words seem to be stuck in both of their throats as their eyes communicate for them. Eventually, they let their lips speak for them but only in sweet kisses.

 

She eases off of him gently and moans at both the emptiness his cock leaves behind and the ache of feeling properly fucked. Some of his seed spills out onto his stomach when she leans over to lay cuddled next to him. Gendry pats the bed next to them for any sort of clothing and finds her knickers. He reaches over and gently pats her between her thighs with the bit of cloth before using it to sop up his stomach. Arya hums in thanks.

 

“You have some sort of plastic bag I can take those home in?” she drowsily inquires and snuggles her body deeper into the side of his with his arm wrapped protectively around her small form, and her arm and leg draped possessively over him. Their skin is hot and sweaty, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, it feels perfect. Meant to be.

 

“What? No, these are mine now. I’m keeping these,” he informs her, making Arya snort in laughter. “And you’re not going anywhere tonight…right?”

 

The way his voice went from confident to slightly unsure endears her all the more to him. With eyes closed, she smiles against his chest and tells him, “‘Course not. Good luck trying to kick me out.”

 

She doesn’t know how but Arya knows he’s grinning right now. After a few peaceful moments of him stroking her leg as they lay tightly together, Gendry tentatively breaks the silence.

 

“I know this is completely backwards but, I was wondering if I can take you out on a date? Maybe tomorrow night?”

 

That makes Arya’s eyes shoot wide open. She sits up a bit to stare down at him, and the vulnerable, adoring look he’s giving her makes that root begin to bloom outrageously in her chest.

 

“I would love that,” she whispers to him. Gendry smiles with what looks like relief and brings her down for a kiss. His cock is rebounding against her thigh still draped over him. Before the kiss becomes too passionate, Arya backs up and smiles at him, then lays back down, snuggling into his side again.

 

“I’m knackered. Don’t judge me.”

 

His chest shakes with laughter.

 

“How do you feel? Are you sore?” he asks gently before pulling on the end of a sheet to drape it over them.

 

She hums into his chest. “Yes, but in the best possible way.”

 

Right before she dozes off into the best slumber of her life, Arya sleepily declares, “If you’re keeping my knickers, I get to keep something of yours.”

 

Gendry turns his face into her hair and whispers, “Anything.”

 

And by the pace of his beating heart under her ear, she suspects she already owns it.

 

••

 

Sunlight filters into the room through the blinds, bathing the room in a golden hue. Gendry has been awake for the last fifteen minutes, admiring Arya while she sleeps in the crook of his arm. His mind has been playing a continuous loop of visuals from last night and their re-coupling later in the early dawn when she awoke him with her mouth around his already hardening cock. Gendry took her from behind that time, pounding his hips against her firm ass while she was on all fours. With one experimental slap coming down hard on her ass cheek, he got to hear her address him as _daddy_ just like she did his swords. He nearly lost it then, but determined to make her peak before him, he drove into her harder until she was whimpering face down into the bed, tears streaming down her face as she screamed through her extremely intense release, aided by his fingers reaching around and rubbing her engorged clit.

 

Arya begins to stir and brings him out of his thoughts and back to the present. She blinks her eyes open and looks up at him with a sweet, sleepy smile that makes his heart want to burst.

 

“Good morning, love. Again,” Gendry greets her with a grin.

 

He knows if he were to ask if she’s too sore, she would say no again even if she were, but having her so soft, naked, and warm and sleepy in his arms, Gendry can’t _not_ have her. He gently kisses her and deposits sweet, wet kisses down her throat and lifts the sheet to climb over and settle between her legs to suckle on her beautiful pink nipples. She moans happily in approval and her thighs part wider for him while her fingers thread through his hair. His hard cock is laying against her lower stomach on top of her mound, and he feels her wetness against his balls. At this point, it’s a combination of both their fluids.

 

Gendry continues to suck on her tit while lining up his hips with hers and rubbing his length against her to test how wet she is. His cock glides smoothly against her lips, and they both moan at the sensation.

 

He lifts his head up from her chest and asks her with a pleading look, “Can I?” Arya is too dazed with sleep and pleasure to answer, so she nods with a smile and confirms with her eyes instead. He pushes his cock down to her entrance and slides in gently, filling her slowly inch by inch, making her gasp and moan into his arms as he buries himself to the hilt; her incredibly swollen cunt sucking his length in.

 

Soon they are grinding their hips into one another slowly, taking their time while they kiss lazily, hands roaming over every inch of naked skin they can both reach. Gendry can’t remember the last time he’s felt this happy and alive. There isn’t a woman from his past that he can recall of that has ever inspired the feelings in him that Arya has. And Gendry thought he’s been in love before, once upon a time, but that woman didn’t make him feel the way Arya does.

 

After a few careful swipes of his thumb, he has her groaning beneath him through her orgasm. It pleases him to be so familiar with how her body works already. He’s almost ready to come, but he’s trying to drag it out. Looking at her sexy, satisfied face that he is responsible for doesn’t help him in delaying his orgasm, and her tight cunt is squeezing him mercilessly, so he begins thrusting harder until he fills her with his release, and a loud moan. Gendry blames it on base instincts, but he absolutely loves coming inside her. It makes him feel as though he’s claimed her as his. Each time they have sex, he gets closer and closer to uttering certain endearments that he’s too afraid to allow himself to say. The way she’s looking at him now, for instance, makes it really hard not to tell her three words that can’t be spoken aloud. At least not yet.

 

So instead, he says it with his eyes before he cuddles her to his chest and carries her to the loo down the hall for a shower, making her laugh. Gendry washes her hair, massaging her scalp as he does so and nearly knocks her back to sleep until he jolts her awake a few minutes later when his soapy hand cups her cunt and washes the remnants of their lovemaking away. That leads to one more round with Arya’s back pressed up against the glass of his shower, their fingers entwined as he holds her hands above her head and fucks her into the glass with one of her legs lifted and wrapped around his hip. They probably would have never left the shower after discovering the delight of their wet, soapy skin rubbing against each other, but the water eventually began to turn cold, forcing them out.

 

A while later they share breakfast in bed after Gendry prepared a small tray of tea with warm croissants and jam for them in the kitchen while Arya perused through a hefty tome, sitting in the nook in front of the window. She climbed her way over and moved the stacks of books out so she could read and have a better view of him while he brewed a pot of tea, she had told him, which made him laugh in delight at her obvious possessiveness. Arya followed him out to the kitchen wearing his button down shirt that he wore yesterday and seeing her in it fills him with desire but also stirs a lot of emotions within him. Like a longing to make her his and no one else’s.

 

They’ve just finished eating and are quietly sipping the rest of their tea in bed. Before she brings the cup up to her lips, Arya asks, “Don’t you have class today?” It’s Friday, and she doesn’t have any classes today. He, unfortunately, does.

 

“Yeah, have to leave in a bit,” he answers with a sigh and roll of his eyes, dissatisfied with having to leave her. “Any way I can convince you to stay locked up in my flat to wait for me naked until I come home?”

 

She grins widely at him. “As much as I would love to, I have training with my sword fighting instructor. But I have some time until I need to leave. Mind if I stick around until I have to go?”

 

“Of course not, stay as long as you like,” he promises and hopes she takes him up on it as often as possible.

 

As though sensing his thoughts, Arya reaches out and squeezes his hand, smiling brightly at him. “I love that we can be free here. Together.” Her admission makes his chest swell.

 

Too soon Gendry finds himself kissing her goodbye, his back against the front door with Arya having pinned him there. After leaving him breathless with her demanding kisses, he walks out the door with a groan of regret.

 

Arya stays hidden out of view behind the opened door, still naked underneath his overflowing shirt, and standing inside the threshold of his flat. “Date tonight?” she sweetly asks.

 

“Yeah! I’ll come up with a plan and text you later,” he answers with a grin from the hallway before winking goodbye and heading out the entrance to the stairwell, radiating with joy.

 

••

 

After a quick twenty minute nap wrapped in sheets that smell of her and Gendry’s scents mixed together, Arya throws her clothes back on from last night, with the exception of her knickers. She’s leaving those behind for him. Boots on, keys in hand, she decides she’s keeping this button down shirt and throws it back on over her halter top. As she heads out the door, down the hallway a maintenance worker is walking out of the flat where Gendry’s new neighbour has moved into. Arya pays him no mind while she locks the door behind her before closing it and heading out the entrance to the stairwell.

 

If she had waited just ten seconds before leaving, Arya would have heard the maintenance worker ask what the new tenant of Gendry’s floor does for a living. And she would have heard him respond that he’s working at London Royal University. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovelies! This chapter picks up where the last one ended. Thank you so incredibly much for all the kudos, comments, and love you've shown me and this little fic of mine! I appreciate it so much, you have no idea 😭😍
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_**Friday, 26 April 2019** _

 

“And where were you out all night then?” Sansa greets from the kitchen flipping through a stack of the post when she hears Arya walk through the door.

“…somewhere,” Arya offers lamely, surprised to see her sister. It’s not technically a lie. She _was_ somewhere. On the ride home, she didn’t exactly prepare herself for having to answer for her whereabouts last night. For one thing, she hadn’t expected Sansa to be home since she thought she had a lunch date with Podrick this afternoon. And for another, she highly doubts that even if she knew Sansa would be home that she could have managed to spare a thought on an explanation. Her mind had been instead consumed with a particular sexy professor she lost her virginity to just thirteen hours ago.

Still glancing down at letters and bills, Sansa asks, “Doing what?”

“…something.” Still not a lie. Gendry _is_ something. 

Arya tries to quickly make it past her before she looks up and sees what she’s wearing. Always known for being incredibly light and quick on her feet, she gets away undetected 99.9% of the time. On this occasion, however, a scent catches Sansa’s attention as Arya silently passes by, making her look over. Her jaw drops when she sees what Arya is wearing. 

“You were out ‘somewhere’ all night doing ‘something,’ and came back wearing yesterday’s clothes and a man’s button down shirt that smells like cologne?” Arya pretends to ignore her but Sansa trails after her down the hallway as she walks to her bedroom and excitedly asks, “Who is he?! How long has this been going on?!” 

They reach her bedroom, and after a suddenly shocked gasp that alerts an epiphany, Sansa grabs Arya by her shoulders and asks with a gleeful smile, “ _Did you finally have sex?_ Oh my God, Arya did you?!” She begins jumping up and down, jostling Arya, who shoves her off gently with a sly smile before walking over to her closet.

As Arya picks out clothes to wear for her training session, Sansa drops onto the bed and demands expectingly, “ _So?_ Tell me everything!”

Standing in front of the walk-in closet, Arya panics for a brief moment. She wants so badly to feel comfortable enough to tell her sister everything, but her uncertainty of how Sansa would react to the news is holding her back. And even more worrisome, what she might do with the information if she told her. She trusts her sister, but in this particular situation, Sansa’s reaction could go either one of two ways, and she’s not willing to take that gamble just yet. Even though Arya would really love to have someone to talk to about Gendry, especially after last night. Wishing she could gush to her sister about the incredible man she’s falling hard and fast for, she forbears instead for the time being. But she has to tell Sansa something; she’s been caught red-handed after all.

“He’s a bloke. We’ve been seeing each other for a month. And yes, we had sex last night,” Arya states matter of factly while rifling through her closet. 

Sansa’s face is frozen in full eyed excitement. “And?! C’mon, I need _details_. Who is he? How did you meet? How was your first time? When do I get to meet him? Does he know how many brothers you have?” 

“ _Sansaaaa_ ,” she whines, taking her boots off. “First of all, don’t you _dare_ tell any of our brothers or parents about this. And second, I would love to tell you more but…things are going _so well_ right now that I really don’t want to jinx it by sharing too much. Just. Not yet.” Again, not entirely a lie. 

That seems to appease Sansa for now, and she nods in understanding. “Well, I’m very happy for you.” Her voice is aiming for a respectful, mature tone, knowing she’s possibly grating Arya’s nerves with her excitement. “And if you ever need the flat to yourselves, just…let me know, and I’ll make sure myself and Podrick aren’t around.” 

Arya gives her a crooked smile. “Thanks, San.”

“Can you at the very least tell me how the sex was?” Sansa asks, desperate for any bit of information.

“It was… _beyond incredible_ ,” Arya declares with a dreamy sigh, prompting her sister to start giggling. Which makes her laugh as well and she finds herself awash with relief to be able to talk about Gendry, even if it’s just a minuscule amount. 

There’s a beat before Sansa’s voice takes back on her earlier spirited tone. “Wouldn’t it be so much fun if we went out on double dates together?! And the four of us could cook dinner together here and hang out! Oh, I can’t wait!” she exclaims and hops off the bed with a broad smile, leaving Arya be so she can get changed. At the mention of double dates and the four of them hanging out in their flat, Arya’s gut twists just a bit, and she can’t help but wonder if they’ll ever get the chance to do that. 

After getting changed and collecting her duffle bag, along with her sword, Arya heads out to the kitchen where Sansa is preparing lunch. Poking her head into the fridge to grab a bottle of water, Arya says, “I’m off then. Thought you had a lunch date with Podrick today?” 

“We did, but uh-“ Podrick himself answers as he rounds the corner, coming from Sansa’s bedroom as he straightens out his shirt and looks down quickly to make sure his zipper is pulled up. 

“Right,” Arya answers with a smirk, and an eyebrow raised at her blushing sister and closes the fridge. 

“So I overheard you’re seeing someone? That’s great, Arya!” Podrick congratulates her with a genuinely happy smile.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” Arya mutters darkly under her breath and heads for the door without acknowledging him. But before exiting, she can’t help but turn around to give the happy couple a shy smile and tells Podrick, “Thanks.”

••

After arriving early to her training session, the subject of nearly every one of her waking thoughts texts her.

 

Stomach filling with warmth and butterflies, Arya finds herself flushed and a tad breathless. One could be forgiven for assuming he must have told her _I love you_ based on the reaction _I miss you already_ has provoked. Which further confirms that Arya isn’t falling for Gendry, but rather has fallen hard for him already. Head over heels. Arse over face. Pick one. A rosy blush reddens her cheeks as she nibbles on her bottom lip to contain her outrageous smile in public, and texts back. 

 

 

Staring at her phone, dumbfounded, she feels quite lucky for a woman on the verge of twenty to have landed such a gentleman. None of the dates she’s been on has ever consisted of anything more than going to the pub and making out in the backseat of a car. Arya feels nearly guilty about him spending any money on her, though. She doesn’t require that of him, and she’d be just as happy to share a pizza in bed. But by the same token, he said he planned on wining and dining her if she’d allow him, so he obviously wants to very much. And she’d be a liar to say she didn’t want an excuse to get dressed up for him. Simply knowing Gendry intends to take her out on a romantic date excites her and stirs up curiosities of what this could signify as far as his intentions for a potential future together are concerned.

 

 

Arya had to school her features into an alluring expression for a selfie. She was too embarrassed to send him a photo of herself, smiling like an idiot, which is what his request made her do. 

 

 

She clicks to enlarge the photo and stares for a solid minute and forty-five seconds. He’s sent her an additional three texts, but she keeps swiping the notifications away to continue her ogling.

 

 

Her shoulders hunch in laughter at his adorable obliviousness. She saves his photo under his contact info before proceeding to have some fun with him.

 

 

While laughing, she scrolls up to look at his photo again and sees that he asked if he can come to pick her up for their date. She quickly scans her memory for whether Sansa has mentioned if she and Podrick would be staying in or going out tonight but can’t recall anything. After this morning’s accidental run-in, Arya thinks it better to err on the side of caution.  

 

 

 

••

 

Except for today. 

 

“What in the bleedin’ fuck, Stark. You’re hobbling around like you got fucked by a horse six ways to Sunday.”

 

Arya releases a frustrated sigh as she brings her sword down to lean heavily against the hilt. They’ve been at it for only twenty minutes, and already she’s winded and sweating profusely. Her inner thigh muscles are sore from clenching tightly around Gendry’s hips last night and this morning, making her grimace with every lunge and sidestep.  

 

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Arya breathes out and wipes the back of her arm across her forehead. 

 

Hound raises the one eyebrow he has left at her while also lowering his sword. 

 

“A horse?”

 

“Might as well have been.”

 

“Congratulations. Was it worth it for this pathetic display you call sparring?” 

 

“Fuck yes, it was,” is her indignant answer before she stalks off to grab her water. Hound shrugs his shoulders and follows after her. 

 

“I can’t really argue with that. Who is the bastard I should bill then who is responsible for you wasting my time today?”

 

“No one you’d know,” Arya tells him, grateful for that fact, and plops into a chair.

 

He only grunts in reply as he begins chugging on his own water bottle. Arya certainly felt a tad sore upon waking up this morning, but after two more rounds with Gendry, her legs and new found muscles are aching now. She leans her sword against the wall and begins massaging her quad muscles. 

 

“Well, I suggest you either stop fucking for the next two weeks until after your competition or start fucking more so your muscles get used to it, so you’re not wincing every time you take a bloody step.”

 

Arya looks up and stares at him before saying, “Solid advice. I’ll start fucking more. I’m sure he won’t complain.” 

 

“And this is why your parents pay me. To give you advice on when and how often to fuck.”

 

“Gotta make a living somehow, right?”

 

Hound is the first to crack a smile. It encourages her to be brave.

 

“He’s coming to the competition. You’ll get to meet him then.” 

 

That makes him scowl in bafflement.  

 

“You don’t allow your own family to come to any of your competitions anymore.”

 

“I’m superstitious.” 

 

“But he gets a pass?” Hound asks incredulously. 

 

Arya merely shrugs her shoulders and offers a smile as her answer. He’s looking at her like she’s an equation he’s trying to solve. 

 

“Right. I’ll bring him a bill for today then when I meet this horse-dick cunt. Get out of here and go soak. You’re worthless to me in the state he’s put you in.”

 

She rolls her eyes with a smile and starts packing up, thankful for the early dismissal, and knowing without even having to utter the words that she can count on his discretion.

 

••

 

 

Arya is rushing around the flat, getting ready to leave. After digging through both Sansa’s and her own closet for the better part of two hours, she rediscovered a red dress she had worn to her brother Robb’s wedding last year. This will be the first time Gendry has ever seen her in a dress, and it comes the day right after he saw her wear a skirt for the first time. She never understood the appeal of wearing a dress frequently, but after learning first hand how convenient they can be in moments of passion, she definitely understands now. 

 

 

Glancing at the time, she grabs a clutch she also borrowed from Sansa and texts her quickly as she walks out the door to not expect her home again tonight. 

 

••

 

Arya approaches his door and wonders whether she should knock or simply walk right in, seeing as how she was just here this morning. Deciding to be polite, she raises her fist to knock, then nervously rubs her hand down her coat to smooth away nonexistent wrinkles. Quick footsteps against hardwood floor can be heard before Gendry swings open the door wide, both of them already smiling brightly at the other. Within seconds, their smiles both morph into expressions of pleased delight and surprise. She’s never seen Gendry wearing all black before. In a black suit with matching black tie and button down shirt, he looks so incredibly handsome and dapper that Arya is relieved to have spent as much time as she did getting ready for tonight. Their eyes both rove lustfully over one another for a short time, forgetting they’re still standing in the doorway. Before he has the chance to invite her in, she reaches her hands out while still holding onto her clutch to gently push against his firm chest and directs him to walk backwards. All the while staring into his eyes that look the colour of Prussian blue against his all-black attire. He shoots her a lewd grin and lets her lead him into the flat.

 

“Don’t worry, this is non-smudge lipstick, it’s not coming off any time soon,” Arya says by way of greeting as she pushes him up against the closed door, then presses her red lacquered lips against his in hello. Gendry moans into the kiss instantly and wraps his arms around her waist to press her flush against him. The unmistakable outline of his wakening erection is making itself known against her hip, and it flatters her to know how easily she can arouse him. He smells like an intoxicating blend of cologne and his own signature scent that is purely Gendry’s; a scent she is now very familiar with that makes the apex of her thighs ache. 

 

A second later, he releases her bottom lip to tell her, “Hello, gorgeous. Feels like it’s been forever since I touched you.”

 

Arya’s cute knickers didn’t stand a chance this evening. Not against his good looks and ineffable charm. She roughly pushes him back into the door with the force of her lips alone.

 

“You have a thing about pushing me up against this door and kissing me,” Gendry says before capturing her lips again. 

 

“You’re the one who dressed up like a harlot for our date, can you blame me?” Arya teases before backing out of his arms and reaching for his hand. 

 

“Me? A harlot?!” Gendry laughs while he gestures to her outfit. “Look at you all tarted up! I know that’s just a coat but _fuck me_ you look incredible.” He grips the hand he’s holding while he gazes at her appreciatively. 

 

She grins and casts her eyes bashfully down at the floor. Still leaning against the door, Gendry pulls on her hand to bring her back into the enclosure of his arms and slides his fingers around the back of her neck to gently cup her head while he kisses her. Once a moan escapes her lips, Gendry pulls back and declares in a voice husky with want, “You seriously look proper fuckin’ fit.”

 

Arya responds with elated laughter. “Thank you. And you, sir, look so very… _very sexy_.” 

 

Gendry brings her hand to his lips to press a kiss on the back of her knuckles before telling her, “Thank you, love.” The simple act makes her heart sing. The look he’s giving her right now is making her want to order pizza and stay in for the night instead.

 

“In fact, we better leave now because if we stay any longer, I may end up being the one to fuck _you_ into the floor.” She reaches over to grasp the door handle behind him.

 

“Wait! Don’t I get to see what you’re wearing underneath that?”

 

“At the restaurant,” Arya promises him with a kiss.

 

••

 

After Gendry opens her door and offers his hand to assist her out of the car, he hands the keys to the valet, and they find themselves standing under the red awning of Clos Maggiore. 

 

“Let's see if this place lives up to the hype, yeah?” Gendry says while opening yet another door for her. Already he’s breaking records in Arya’s short dating history. 

 

“Have you not been here before?” She assumed he must have, but has tried all day not to ponder who else he has potentially brought to the world’s most romantic restaurant. 

 

While approaching the maître d’, Gendry reaches for her hand to entwine his fingers with hers and answers, “No, never been. Have you?” He looks concerned for a second, as though he’s worried that he has just wasted their first date by going somewhere she’s been before. Arya simply shakes her head no and flashes him an adoring smile. 

 

They follow the maître d’ through the restaurant, hand in hand, and neither caring who sees. The feeling of being out in public on Gendry’s arm as his date is thrilling. But it doesn’t compare to the feeling his frequent glances inspire in her as they walk to their table. He looks proud to be seen with her. And absolutely enamoured with her. 

 

Gendry doesn’t let go of her hand until they’re shown to their table located in a cosy, secluded corner that he requested. Arya stares awestruck at the ceiling where layers of decorative tree branches hover over the room, creating a forest canopy indoors. Each branch is bursting with white blossoms and wrapped in a soft glow of string lights. Above the limbs is a glass ceiling, showing off a clear and starry London night sky.

 

“I believe they live up to the hype,” Arya confirms, still unable to tear her eyes away from the beauty surrounding them. When her eyes finally land back on her date, she finds a satisfied, if not a tad cocky, expression on his face. 

 

Once the maître d’ leaves them with the assurance that their waiter will arrive shortly, Gendry pulls a chair out for Arya and asks, “Can I please relieve you of your coat, m’lady?” He tries and fails to appear nonchalant. 

 

“Yes, I suppose you’ve suffered long enough,” she tells him with a grin while holding his gaze and begins to unbutton. Her goal was to appear sexy by revealing her dress without looking down, but the hole for one button is too small, and she now remembers having to _fight_ to get this damned button through the hole earlier. She struggles for a moment. One moment turns into two, and now she has to break eye contact to work on this blasted thing.

 

“ _Fuck,_ ” Arya curses under her breath. 

 

“Do you need help with that?”

 

“No, I’ve got it.”

 

“It doesn’t appear that you do.”

 

“It’s almost-“

 

“I can really help with that, you know.”

 

“I know you can.”

 

“It just seems like you’re doing this on purpose-“

 

“Shut-“

 

“-like a form of torture.”

 

“-up, Gendry.”

 

And finally, the button slips through. 

 

“That took an unnecessary amount of time.” 

 

“Gendry!” Arya laughs his name, which makes him finally break and crack a smile. 

 

Two more buttons slip free, and she’s pulling the coat off her shoulders to reveal a red form-fitting sleeveless dress that cinches in at the waist and flares out at her hips, with a plunging neckline revealing her modest cleavage. It also happens to land just an inch shorter than the length of the coat she borrowed, which already grazes the tops of her thighs. That extra inch of skin makes all the difference in making her legs appear even longer, especially in heels. Arya’s legs are thin and toned from hours of weight training and footwork practice with her fencing coach, which allows her high heels to accentuate her hard earned calf muscles. She shrugs her arms out of the sleeves and hands it to Gendry, who continues to stare at her with lips parted and eyebrows raised. He weakly raises his hand out to retrieve her coat while giving her a thorough look over. 

 

“Do you think they’ll hold the table for us so I can quickly shag you in the back alley?”

 

“That was exactly the response I was hoping for,” Arya tells him with a grin of triumph. 

 

She watches as he moves to stand behind her. Before letting her sit down, Gendry stands close enough for her to feel his body heat but not enough to touch him. He lightly wraps his large hand around the side of her waist and whispers into her ear, “How am I supposed to sit across from you through dinner without pulling an Arya and wiping everything clean off this table so I can fuck you on it?” 

 

His breath against her ear and his words send a shiver of desire and anticipation through her. Turning her head towards him, she whispers back, “Knowing that you’re going to fuck me on the ride home in your car should be enough to help you make it through dinner.” Arya looks up over her shoulder and just as she suspected, his brilliant blue eyes are heavily lidded and smoldering with unbridled desire. 

 

“I really, _really_ like you,” he tells her with a roguish smile and leans forward to kiss her on the cheek. 

 

There’s a gleam in his eyes that excites Arya and makes her stomach roll. A gleam that says he more than likes her. She returns the smile and sentiment before he releases her waist and gives her space to stand in front of her chair before pushing it in for her as she sits down. Sitting across from her now, Gendry slides his hand across the top of the table to delicately touch her fingers and coax her hand into his. With a brilliant smile, he says, “You look absolutely amazing. Thank you for agreeing to this.”

 

“Are you kidding? What made you think I wouldn’t have?” Arya laughs. 

 

Gendry shrugs his shoulders, looking a smidge uncomfortable. He lowers his voice even though their table is tucked away from the busiest areas of the restaurant. “Well, y’know. Didn’t know if you would want to risk it, being out in public with me.” 

 

She’s taken aback for a split second. “Oh, I thought you meant agreeing to come to a posh place instead of somewhere more casual.” 

 

Their eyes meet, then both glance down at their clasped hands. “I like being out in public with you. Makes me feel like…” Arya trails off, self-conscious. He squeezes her hand, wordlessly urging her to continue. She looks back up to meet his gaze and finishes her sentence, “…like I’m your girlfriend.” 

 

Gendry’s eyes soften at that, and a small lopsided grin begins to appear on his handsome, stubbled face. 

 

“Would you like to be?” he asks her. 

 

Her stomach feels like a cage filled with thousands of butterflies.  _Is this really happening?_ she thinks to herself. Not willing to harp on questioning the validity of her current reality, Arya rushes instead to take the opportunity presented before her. 

 

“Yes, I would. Very much.” Her heart feels like it’s in her throat and she’s about ready to vomit it out from nerves. 

 

Right as Gendry is about to respond, their waiter walks up to hand them menus and to explain tonight’s specials, but Arya isn’t paying attention; _can’t_ pay attention. Her hand is beginning to sweat in Gendry’s, wishing there was a fast forward button she could press to skip the waiter’s formalities so she can finally hear what he was going to say in response to her confession. Before walking away to leave them with the menu, the waiter asks if they’d like anything to drink. Gendry looks over at her and asks, “Champagne?” She smiles and nods, then he requests two glasses. 

 

With the waiter finally gone, Gendry quickly leans across the small table to kiss her firmly on the lips, nearly catching his tie on fire from the lit candle placed between them. He gives a little yelp when he feels the heat of the flame and backs away to sit down, unsinged. 

 

“Please don’t set yourself on fire for me.” 

 

“It would have been worth it.” 

 

They smile brilliantly at one another. He rests his arms on the table and leans forward, rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand. The look in his eyes steals her breath away before his next words have the chance to.

 

“I would love to be your boyfriend.”

 

Tears prickle at her eyes, and she blinks them away quickly with an excited laugh. 

 

“I’d love that too.” 

 

Silence hangs in the air before she tentatively asks, “So…how do we make that happen?”

 

Gendry nods his head, ready with an answer. “I’ve been thinking a lot about that actually, and as far as I can remember from the last university I worked at, as long as you’re not my student taking any more classes with me, then we’re free to date, so long as I report it to HR. There was a professor I heard of who did that at the last uni and they left them alone since he followed protocol and reported it. And she wasn’t taking any classes with him.”

 

Her heart feels like it’s going to burst from joy. Not only because of this newfound hope but also because he has actually spent time thinking about how they can potentially be together. “Seriously? That’s fantastic!” she exclaims. 

 

The look on his face shows slight apprehension. “I just want to make sure that I’m not preventing you from potentially switching your major to Metalwork since you’re so damned talented with a hammer and anvil. I know you’ve only been taking my classes for fun, but I’d hate to be the reason you stopped taking them altogether if you really do enjoy them.”

 

Arya can see the battle raging in his eyes between wanting to say fuck it all and claim her as his, and trying desperately to remain a gentleman and make sure this is her choice and that he doesn’t influence her decision about which classes to take or avoid, even at the cost of not having her.

 

She clenches his hand to reassure him. “As much as I love your classes, and not just because you happen to be great eye candy,” which gets a snort of laughter from him, “I’d be willing to not sign up for the advanced courses next term so we can date. Besides, we can forge together at your friend’s smithy. That sounds like a fair trade-off to me. And even if I can’t get course credit, you can still tell me tales about fabled Westerosi heroes and the weapons they used to protect their kingdoms, in the comfort of your bed.” 

 

Gendry’s eyes crinkle beautifully as he beams at her. “I definitely look forward to history lessons in bed. And I’m sure Davos would love to have a hot young bird working his forge,” he says before kissing her again, this time moving the candle out of the way before leaning across and holding the side of her face. Arya meets him halfway and smiles against his lips, overcome with happiness.

 

When they part, Gendry laughs, “This is amazing! I mean, I don’t like the idea of going to the smithy and not seeing you there in the autumn, but if it means I get to wake up next to you before I go, then I’d choose that every day.” 

 

Arya stares at him for a beat with wide luminous eyes, then asks in a raspy voice, “How long do you think dinner will take?” He smiles and bites his bottom lip. 

 

“Now look who’s the impatient one.” 

 

“Well, you did just tell me you’d like to be my incredibly fit, sexy, older boyfriend that I wake up next to.” 

 

“I didn’t use any of those descriptors, but thank you all the same,” Gendry winks at her. 

 

They stare at each other with giddy delight. 

 

Gendry lowers his voice a tad. “We’ll just have to be careful at school until the end of the term.”

 

“Which can’t come soon enough,” Arya groans. 

 

“It’s just a month and a half away,” he assures her with a smirk. “Before you know it, it’ll be the middle of June, and we’ll be off for summer break and can do whatever the bloody hell we want.” 

 

She cocks an eyebrow at him in mock irritation. “How come you’re suddenly so patient?”

 

Gendry’s eyes are transparent when he looks at her, all teasing and flirtatious behaviour dropped. “Because now I know you want to be with me and time no longer feels like it’s running out.” 

 

She wants to tell him she’s in love with him. It’s right there on the tip of her tongue, ready to spill. Her chest feels tight from holding on to all these swirling emotions and feelings he inspires in her heart. Instead, Arya swallows the words down, not wanting to come across as a clingy, inexperienced young girl by admitting that secret on their first date. So she continues to emanate those feelings through her eyes, the way she kisses him, speaks to him and touches him. 

 

Their waiter returns with two glasses of champagne and asks if they’re ready to order or have any questions regarding the menu. They apologize sheepishly and explain they require more time. Lifting their glasses to one another, Gendry toasts, “To not getting caught between now and the 18th of June.”

 

Arya grins and toasts, “To not getting caught and making you mine.”

 

He shoots her a libidinous smile, and promises, “To making you mine.” 

 

 _Clink._  

 

••

 

“What about that park over there?” Arya asks while she fondles her driver’s rock hard bulge. Gendry is weaving through traffic, trying desperately to reach the turn that leads to the park she pointed out. She keeps running her fingertips gingerly up and down his length through the fabric of his slacks. Once every other stoplight, she gives him a squeeze, making him thrust into her hand with a groan. They had sex a total of four times over the course of last night and this morning, but it has only made his craving for her worse. After being celibate for several months while pining for the woman in the seat beside him, Arya unknowingly awoke an insatiable beast within Gendry last night that ironically enough, only she can tame. 

 

She stops her teasing to help him locate a decent spot where they’ll be undisturbed as they pull up to the entrance of the park. But the gate is closed. They both grumble loudly at the same time. 

 

“Fucking _fuck_.” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“That’s the fourth place.” 

 

“Mm.” Arya ignores him as she quickly sends a text on her phone.

 

“Right then, lemme think. There’s a Tesco a few blocks from here, maybe we can park in the back.” 

 

“Let’s just go back to my flat, we’re closer to it than we are to yours and I don't want to keep looking for a place to fuck you in this car when I can just fuck you in my bed,” Arya whines. 

 

“You were the one who said you wanted to have car sex!”

 

“I _know_. And we will one day! I don't know why I thought we’d be able to find a suitable place to park on a Friday night. But I’m getting impatient, and I need you. Take a left at the light.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, okay, alright,” Gendry agrees enthusiastically and proceeds to reach for the shift knob before a thought occurs to him. “What about your sister and Podrick?”

 

“Just texted her, they’re staying at his place tonight. C’mon, let’s go!” 

 

One last concern crosses his mind. “You said you live pretty close to uni, right? Are there any students or faculty that live in your building?” He thought it was pretty clever of her to have asked the same last night. 

 

Arya looks embarrassed for a second. 

 

“What?” He panics.

 

“Um, no, none do. The only uni students that ever come into our building are my self, Sansa, and Podrick.” 

 

Gendry frowns in confusion and shakes his head, not understanding her discomfort. She sighs loudly in a dramatic fashion before confessing. 

 

“We live in a…really posh building.”

 

“Yeah, I figured that much.”

 

“In the Nell Gwynn House flat building.”

 

Gendry’s eyes widen comically. 

 

“ _Oh!_ So neither students _nor_ faculty can afford to live there,” Gendry fills in the blanks.

 

“Exactly.” 

 

Arya looks over at him with a timid expression, as though she’s afraid she may have offended him with the simple fact that she comes from wealth. He, on the other hand, is ecstatic to hear that they won’t run into anyone they know.

 

“Wicked! How do I get there?” 

 

••

 

After parking in the underground garage and taking the lift to the reception, the porter of the building, a kind older fellow, has Gendry sign his name on the visitor sheet, but doesn’t ask for identification. So he scribbles down an undecipherable signature that no one could possibly understand. They hold hands silently as they walk into the lift. She selects the eighth floor and Gendry waits for the doors to close before he turns to slam Arya into the corner and kisses her breathless until she’s tugging and clawing on his suit jacket and tie. The ding announcing the arrival of their floor causes them to pull apart, panting for breath. Arya smiles mischievously up at him and grabs his hand, dragging him behind her as they make their way to her front door. While she opens her clutch to dig out her keys, Gendry stands behind her, rubbing his full erection against her round ass and leaving wet, biting kisses down the side of her throat. He notices her hands shaking from too much energy as she unlocks the door and leads him in. 

 

It’s a massive loft with exposed beams, white brick walls and tasteful, chic furniture and decor with hanging plants providing spots of greenery throughout. That's about as much as he’s able to see before Arya is kissing him again while also walking backwards towards the direction of her room, dragging him along with her by grasping his jacket and pulling it off of him. They undress each other while chuckling happily under their breaths, dropping each piece of clothing onto the floor without a care of where it lands. Gendry’s fingers fly as they unbutton her difficult coat, then pushes it gently off her shoulders; lips never leaving hers. She unbuttons his shirt while he unlatches his self-made stag cufflinks, leaving them in the buttonhole and dropping the shirt onto the floor in the middle of the hallway, along with his tie. Next comes off his black tank, thrown to the floor outside her door as they blindly stumble into her darkroom. Arya pulls away to walk over and switch on a small side lamp on her desk while he turns to close the door. When she faces him again, that frantic lustful energy emanating from her has simmered a bit and is joined with a shy smile. He gives her a soft smile in return and reaches out to hug her against his bare torso, tucking her head under his chin. She’s still wearing her dress, but now she's back to her usual height, sans heels. Even while wearing heels, she’s still much shorter than him. Gendry loves that she’s so petite. And when he holds her like this, she feels absolutely perfect in his arms, as though she were made to fit there. Arya reaches up to bring him back down for a kiss, this time at a much slower pace. 

 

She unbuckles his slacks and starts tugging them and his boxers down when she tells him in a soft, sultry voice, “I’m in charge tonight. Go sit against the headboard.”

 

Immediately his cock twitches, and he grins down at her and replies, “Yes, ma’am.” 

 

He sits back naked onto her plush bed and leans against the headboard as instructed. Gendry’s hand begins stroking his long hardness as he watches her watch him with a lascivious smile. She crawls onto the bed, still wearing the dress, and settles herself over his thighs, leaving enough room for him to continue to stroke. 

 

“I was really hoping you were going to keep the dress on for at least one round,” Gendry tells her and grins. 

 

Without taking her eyes off his cock, she says with a smile, “Why bother wearing it otherwise?” She licks her lips and continues to watch him stroke himself. His tip begins leaking under the intensity of her stare. 

 

“How many rounds do you think you have in you tonight?” Arya asks with a raised eyebrow and flirtatious grin.

 

Gendry grips his cock tighter and gives her an arrogant smirk. “That’s not something you should ever be worried about. Believe me, love.” He lowers his voice. “The question is, how many rounds can _you_ handle tonight?”

 

That makes her bite down on her bottom lip. He can smell the fresh arousal that has just soaked into her knickers, and it makes him groan. 

 

“Mm, I am a bit sore, actually,” she admits reluctantly. 

 

He’s hit with a sudden onslaught of concern, guilt and male pride. 

 

“We’ll go slow. No rush. Nowhere to be, right?” he reminds her encouragingly. She nods and kisses him. Gendry tries deepening the kiss, but she scoots back and lowers her face next to his groin. He has his hand wrapped right under the head when Arya’s tongue slips past her lips to collect his salty arousal. It sends warmth spreading throughout his lower belly as his eyes flutter closed. Her hand wraps around his and tugs his cock towards her so she can suck the head into her mouth with a moan. They begin stroking his cock together slowly while her tongue dances across the broad surface of the head, before opening her mouth to nurse him once more. The sight of Arya’s beautiful painted red lips wrapped around his cock makes him feel unworthy of such a glorious gift, and he wonders, not for the first time if this is all a cruel, wonderful dream. 

 

Arya sits up to slide her knickers down her thighs, then lays on her side to pull them the rest of the way off. His eyes follow her every movement. She lifts her dress with one hand before straddling his hips and reaches down for his cock to rub against her already swollen wet folds. They both gasp quietly at the contact and Gendry pulls his hand away. 

 

“Am I allowed to touch you?” he asks in a hoarse voice. 

 

She finally tears her eyes away from his cock and looks at him. “Of course you can, what made you think you couldn’t?”

 

“You said you were in charge tonight,” Gendry lightly shrugs his shoulders. His heart begins beating faster at the warm, pleading look in her eyes. 

 

“Please touch me,” she asks of him softly. 

 

He swallows and reaches out to palm her generous tits. Arya leans into his embrace as she begins to gently sink down onto his cock. They both press their foreheads together as their moans grow louder with every inch she takes. Eventually, she bottoms out, her groin resting flush against his and Gendry’s eyes roll into the back of his head with a groan. She stays still, hands holding on to the sides of his face and panting against his lips. He’s lost in the sensation of how deliciously tight she feels wrapped around his cock when suddenly he remembers she’s sore. 

 

“Are you alright? Is this okay?” Gendry inquires with ragged breath, still gripping her covered tits. 

 

Arya nods her head against his forehead, causing him to nod with her. “ _Yesss,_ ” she moans as she begins to move at a leisurely pace. Their movements are languid while she reacquaints herself with this new dance she has just learned. Eventually, the soreness dulls into shooting pleasure while she begins to lose herself in the sinful grind of their hips and picks up speed, making Gendry’s thick cock throb inside of her. After only one night of sex, she’s a bloody pro right out the gate. Of course, she is. He can't say he’s surprised with his little wolf. Gendry caresses the outside of her thigh while lifting the hem of her dress to watch his cock disappear inside of her. They both stare down at where they’re joined, fascinated with seeing her cunt taking every inch he has to offer. 

 

“ _Oh Gendry,_ ” she moans loudly before smashing her lips against his, plunging her tongue into his mouth. He swallows her moans with lips and tongue and grabs her hips to aid the push and pull between them before thrusting his cock deep inside her tight walls with a groan of appreciation, making her whine in delight. She’s so wet that her arousal is coating the dark curls at the base of his cock. 

 

Chest heaving, he leans his head back to stare into her eyes and sees that same look he saw last night right after they both came together for the first time. The same look he saw throughout the course of their dinner. After their conversation earlier tonight, Gendry is convinced that he’s not just seeing what he wants to see reflected in her beautiful grey eyes. He reaches a hand to cup her face and licks his bottom lip while they continue to grind against each other. Arya gives him a soft, sexy smile. She’s so unbelievably beautiful and radiating with adore for him. It’s all the encouragement his lust riddled brain needs before he begins to speak.

 

“Arya, I lo-“

 

The front door to the flat opens and shuts and two pairs of footsteps can be heard. Arya and Gendry both freeze instantly in each other’s arms. Gendry froze out of fear while Arya froze for an entirely different reason; the sudden intense orgasm ripping through her body. Her cunt clenches around him mercilessly; her walls fluttering and tightening. Just as she’s about to release a loud guttural moan, Gendry quickly crashes his lips against hers to swallow the sound, which makes him spill deep inside of her without warning. He groans low in his throat and wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly while they're both submerged in waves of immense pleasure. 

 

For the moment, neither are concerned with their unexpected guests. Until the footsteps become louder as they walk closer to her bedroom door. They stare at one another with wide eyes, not daring to move or breathe. The sound of fabric rustling on the other end of the door can be heard when suddenly Arya’s phone chimes with a text message in her clutch that is on her desk on the other side of the room. Neither move as they continue to hold each other; his cock is surprisingly still firm inside of her. Gendry had expected his hardness to wilt away at the sound of footsteps approaching, but he can't help but be turned on at the prospect of getting caught. Which he now realizes is probably what sent Arya over the edge. _Naughty girl_ , he thinks to himself. 

 

Eventually, the footsteps retreat from her door and the other set of footsteps join the first pair in finally walking out of the flat. Once the door shuts, they both exhale loudly, and Arya carefully pulls off of him with a soft moan. She scrambles to get off the bed and walks over to pick up her clutch and check her phone. 

 

  

 

“It was Sansa and Pod, he forgot his wallet,” Arya explains as she puts her phone down and walks over to open her door. She bends at the waist to retrieve a bundle off the floor and walks back inside with Gendry’s suit jacket, button down, under shirt and even his tie folded into a neat pile. His eyes widen in surprise while Arya cracks a smile and drops the clothes onto her desk. 

 

“See? Look at that, nothing but first-class service when you come to shag me at my gaff.” 

 

Gendry laughs loudly as relief floods through him. He watches as she pulls her dress up over her head, wearing nothing underneath. Glancing at her inner thighs, he sees a wet trail of his seed that has dripped down, making his cock stand straight up.

 

Arya flings the dress onto the floor and gives him a flushed, bright smile. 

 

“So, where were we?” she playfully asks while crawling back onto the bed towards him. 

 

He can hardly believe how lucky he is to have this woman in his life; in his heart; in his arms. 

 

“C’mere,” he whispers at her with a smile. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies! This chapter picks up the following morning after their first date 🥰
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
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_**Saturday, 27 April 2019** _

 

Arya silently creeps back into her room after a quick visit to the loo to freshen up and carefully shuts the door behind her. In the middle of her bed lays her newly acquired boyfriend, still sleeping amongst dishevelled sheets marred with the evidence of their long night of lovemaking. Always having been intrigued and baffled by the turn of phrase ‘smells like sex,’ she inhales deeply and exhales with a smile. Now, she understands, and it is quickly becoming one of her favourite scents. Arya leans naked against the door to admire the handsome grown man in her bed who has captured her heart. Gendry is laying on his back, facing the door with one arm stretched out from when he sleepily reached for her earlier upon her departure from the warm comfort of his side. The features of his face are soft in sleep, making him appear younger despite the day’s worth of growth filling in along his already stubbled jaw and upper lip. His facial hair is much more pronounced now than it had been a month ago when they shared their first kiss. It makes her stomach flutter knowing he has been deliberately growing out and keeping his stubble at a certain length ever since she made a comment to him about how good it looks on him and liking how it felt against her skin.

 

Last night, right before Sansa and Podrick made their unexpected entrance, Arya could have sworn that Gendry was about to tell her _I love you._ Hearing him begin the sentence, coupled with the shock of the front door opening, sent her spiralling into the quickest orgasm of her life. After they had the flat back to themselves, he didn’t make an attempt to say it again, which she let go without comment, not wanting to hear him say it by forcing his hand. She assumed he must have gotten scared off by their interruption. Regardless of whether he spoke the sentiment out loud or not, Gendry spent more than half the night conveying those three words through his eyes, lips, tongue, and body, leaving her exultant and feeling loved and worshipped. He has a way about him that makes her utterly confident that she’s the centre of his universe. How could she ever wonder whether his feelings for her are authentic when they are so glaringly present in every touch, gesture, spoken word, and glance he radiates?

 

Her eyes begin to trace the dapples of sunlight scattered across his rippling abs. The sheet laying low on his hips begins to rise along with his morning erection, creating a humorous, yet impressive tent. Arya’s mouth begins to salivate as she fantasizes about taking his cock in her mouth and swinging her legs over his face; something they haven’t done before, but that she has read lots about whenever Sansa’s _Cosmopolitan UK_ magazines are laying around the flat. She’s certain he won’t mind being woken up in such a manner as she tiptoes to the end of the bed and climbs in to settle her knees between his thighs. Her hands lift the sheet covering him to unveil his thick member, straining skywards for her, even in the midst of sleep. Sitting on her spread knees, she leans down to gently wrap her hand around his shaft and rests her other hand against his lower stomach over top of his dark happy trail. Her wet tongue trails delicately over the bunched foreskin under his broad tip. Gendry releases a soft whimper, eyes still closed. Her hand strokes down, pulling his foreskin taut and revealing the full head so she can engulf it with her mouth, causing his hips to jerk. Arya begins sucking lightly, massaging his spongy, firm flesh with her tongue. She watches from between his legs as he begins to wake; eyes fluttering open in her direction. Right as his dazzling blue eyes meet hers, she pulls him out of her mouth to give him a long, tortuously slow swipe from base to tip. When her tongue reaches the slit, it’s already oozing with his arousal as his muscular pecs rise and fall with slightly laboured breath.

 

Arya swallows the salty opaque pearl that has gathered on her tongue. “Good morning, boyfriend,” she greets him in an alluring voice, raspy from nonuse since waking. 

 

“Good morning, my gorgeous, wonderful girlfriend,” Gendry replies with a warm, drowsy grin, voice still husky from sleep.

 

Arya’s gut rolls with exhilarated thrill while her cunt swells upon hearing him call her his girlfriend. She instantly takes him back into her mouth and begins sucking his cock earnestly; no longer interested in teasing him. Gendry’s hand reaches down to tuck her hair to the side so he can see her face, and groans deeply. Her hand gives a small twist with every downstroke while she sucks him wantonly, lost in feverish lust for this man she has wanted for so long and never thought she’d have as her own. She opens her jaw wider to sink more of his length in while trying not to graze his sensitive flesh with her teeth; not an easy feat considering his girth. But the time or two her teeth do snag him, he doesn’t seem to mind. He only hisses in pleasure instead and wraps his hand around the back of her head. Gendry’s hand begins to gently push, and the small act of dominance makes her wetter as she moans loudly around his thickness. The reverberation causes his hips to thrust himself further down her tongue with a curse and long moan of his own. Arya doesn’t gag this time. She’s quickly become accustomed to how his body responds to her every movement. 

 

Hearing his moans and panting breath makes the ache between her thighs throb with need. She releases him from her lips and takes the hand that had been stroking him away, which is met with a sound of disapproval from Gendry. Smirking down at him as she sits up, his face brightens, and he automatically reaches for her hips, assuming she is about to impale herself on him. But she shakes her head and smiles back at him over her shoulder as she turns to face his cock from the opposite direction and swings her right leg over his torso. As soon as she begins scooting her ass back so that her thighs are spread over his face, he moans and whispers _oh fuck yes_ , which further inflames her desire for him, filling her lower belly with liquid fire. She lays against his chest and adjusts her arms to support herself against his thighs so she can grasp his cock and take him back into her eager mouth; eliciting a pleasure induced sigh that Arya can feel against her drenched centre. Feeling his warm breath caress her wet lips spurs her back into action, and she starts sucking his cock the same way she used to daydream about while lost in sexual reveries about him during class.

 

Gendry wraps his arms under and around her thighs until his large hands are grasping the bottom of her ass cheeks, urging her closer to his face. After giving each firm globe an appreciative squeeze and open mouth kiss, his hands trail down further between her legs so his fingers can spread her swollen lips apart, revealing glistening wet pink flesh. This position feels deliciously obscene with the promise to become one of her favourites. As she continues to nurse his length, Gendry’s tongue delves between her lips and mimics the long swipe she gave him; first running over the hood of her clit and travelling north to her entrance, taking a moment to dip his tongue inside. But his pursuit doesn’t stop there; his tongue continues its path, going beyond her cunt and running over her sensitive perineum. Just when she thought he would return to her clit, Gendry pulls her ass cheeks apart, and without ever lifting his tongue off her flesh, continues to lick in between. The sensation is shocking and yet, surprises her with just how _fucking_ _good_ it feels. She whimpers around his cock during the entire long lick, but when his tongue travels over her puckered flesh, her eyes roll back into her head, and she disengages her mouth from his hardness to moan loudly. Her back arches, forcing her ass to rise, which he then re-grips to bring her back down closer to repeat the long lick, starting from her clit once more. After his tongue swipes the puckered flesh again, Arya shivers and gasps; her back bent in a sharp arch. 

 

“You like that?” Gendry asks her in a gravelly, amused voice. 

 

She nods her head enthusiastically, and breathily confirms, “ _Yes_ , _yes_ , I do.” 

 

He replies with a small groan while his fingers begin digging into her cheeks. 

 

“You mind if I play around then?”

 

“Please do whatever you want, _please_ ,” Arya finds herself begging, curious for more and trusting him implicitly. 

 

Gendry moans and doesn’t hesitate in feasting on her sopping wet cunt. She tries to return to sucking his cock with the same diligence she was capable of earlier, but the tantalizing trails the tip of his tongue is now painting against her hidden flesh has her mostly moaning around his leaking tip while halfheartedly stroking him. If he minds, he doesn’t show it; too busy happily gorging himself on her swollen pink flesh and exploring the last portion of virginal skin her body possessed that he had not known nor claimed yet. Before long, Gendry has her gasping for breath and stroking his cock with ungraceful, jerky movements, which makes him thrust into her hand repeatedly. He sucks her clit into his mouth, licking the bud between his lips and pulls one cheek to the side. His other thumb dips inside her cunt, fucking her with a few shallow strokes so he can collect her arousal and slip his thumb between her cheeks to rub gently against the sensitive bud. Arya begins wailing as her release overpowers her mind and body, ultimately taking control of all her senses. All she can feel and all that exists is the pleasure enrapturing her betwixt her legs. 

 

He continues to tongue her, tasting the evidence of her orgasm that he is responsible for while she comes down from heavenly heights. She whimpers at the sensation of his continued slow assault on her lips before his tongue travels down to circle softly around her engorged clit. Removing his thumb, he squeezes her ass firmly and gives it a small shake with both hands and an admiring groan. Arya envelopes his straining, red cock back into her mouth and begins sucking eagerly, channelling all of her passion for him into every stroke of her tongue and hand. She has him whimpering behind her, hands grasping desperately at her hip and thigh. When she hears the sudden intake of breath and feels his fingers claw into her skin as his body freezes beneath her, she knows he’s about to come. She closes her mouth around him to create a tight suction so as not to spill a drop, and swallows everything he has to offer, happily. Gendry’s hands loosen their hold on her as he pants for breath and melts into the bed. Eventually, his fingertips begin drifting lazily across the expanse of her lower back until she climbs off and turns around to lay back into his side. He brings her down for a kiss as soon as he can reach her. It never ceases to turn her on when he kisses her right after they’ve given oral pleasure to one another.

 

“ _That_ fun thing you did was fucking incredible,” Arya tells him with a mischievous smile. She’s leaning on her elbow nestled close against him with her leg propped across his hips; hand trailing over his muscled chest possessively. 

 

He returns the smile and caresses her thigh. “I’m glad you liked it.” 

 

“ _I loved it_ ,” she whispers to him, as though admitting a shameful secret. 

 

That garners an amused raised eyebrow and a confident smirk in response. “Knew you would, you naughty girl. I’ll remember that,” he promises, and she leans down to kiss him with smiling lips.

 

After she pulls back, Gendry grins up at her and says, “That’s two mornings in a row that you’ve woken me up that way. You mustn’t spoil me like that, or you’ll never get rid of me this weekend.” 

 

He’s teasing, but she knows him well enough to know that he isn’t merely talking about this weekend. He means indefinitely. Which is a concept she doesn’t have a problem with. 

 

“What if I don’t want to get rid of you?” Arya asks hypothetically with a smile and squeezes his waist with her leg for emphasis. 

 

The man just licked her in the most intimate areas of her body mere moments ago, and yet now he blushes. 

 

“Yeah? You sure about that?” he asks with a gleeful smile. 

 

“‘Course I am,” she responds confidently.

 

“And what makes you think you won’t get sick of me before Sunday night?” he flirts.

 

“Because I’m in love with you.” 

 

Gendry’s eyes widen at her calm, smiling grey eyes and dart back and forth between each of hers, checking for a moment to gauge whether he heard her correctly. Her smile only grows wider in response. He reaches his hand to cup her jaw while sitting up quickly, forcing her to sit up with him, and dips his head to crash his lips against hers with every bit of feeling he’s ever stored up inside of himself for her and couldn’t release until this moment. Arya matches his intensity, pouring every _I love you_ she’s ever wanted to say into each press and pull of their lips and stroke of their tongues. After getting lost in the kiss for a moment, Gendry backs up to frame her face with both hands and stares adoringly into her eyes.

 

“Arya, I’m madly in love with you,” he tells her earnestly. It causes her to erupt in instantaneous joyful laughter to hear those words spoken to her in _Gendry’s_ voice.

 

His delighted laughter soon joins hers until he muffles the sound with his lips and suddenly pins her back against the bed, causing an ecstatic squeal to escape her. Laughter turns into a chorus of moans, with Gendry repeating _I love you_ into her skin like a prayer after every wet kiss he leaves on her throat, along her collar bone, and around each rigid nipple. She repeats the mantra back to him while kissing any inch of his skin her lips can reach until he sits back on his haunches between her legs. Quickly pressing a hand into the back of each knee to push her thighs open and tilt her pelvis up, Gendry looms over and promptly takes her, filling her entirely with one solid, smooth stroke, making them both gasp loudly. She braces herself by reaching overhead to push against the headboard when his thrusts become frantic and hard, making her tits bounce every time he hits the back of her cunt. Arya’s swollen flesh is still sensitive, making every powerful drive of his hips into hers bring tears to her eyes at the overwhelming pleasure encompassing her core. She’s so close to her second release, but she needs to touch him and feel his weight resting on top of her. Reaching up to wrap her hands around his neck, she pulls down until Gendry gets the hint and lowers his body to cover hers. After wrapping her legs tightly around his hips while he re-buries himself deeply inside of her, Gendry presses his face into her neck.

 

“I love you so much,” he whispers into her ear, causing every muscle within her body to clench at once and making Arya cry out in release, dragging her blunt nails down his back. His hips instantly begin snapping into hers, intensifying her orgasm until he grunts and presses himself as deep as he can go inside of her when his release finds him. 

 

They’re a sweaty tangle of loose limbs as they catch their breath. Gendry detaches his face from her neck to peer down at her, and they both stare warmly at one another.

 

“Hi,” Arya greets him, feeling like she’s truly seeing him for the first time, with adore for her unabashedly present on the features of his face. The emotion is reflected back at him on her features as well.

 

“Hi,” he returns the greeting and smiles. “I tried telling you last night-”

 

“I know,” she nods her head and continues to beam up at him.

 

“But I got scared off-”

 

“I know,” Arya confirms and giggles while pressing a kiss against his smiling, round cheeks. He ducks his head shyly and plants a trail of gentle kisses along her jaw and over her face.

 

“Thank you for being brave,” Gendry tells her, and it truly touches Arya how honest his voice sounds. Her heart races at the overwhelming sincerity in his deep blue eyes.

 

“Had to beat you to the punch. Couldn’t let you make _all_ the grand romantic gestures.” 

 

“So it came down to competition, is that it?” he laughs mirthfully while wrapping his arms around her to pull her with him as he lays on his side, and slips out of her.

 

Arya settles her face on the pillow to look at him and runs her fingers through his messy, soft hair. “Something like that,” she japes with a grin. They happily gaze at one another for several beats.

 

“Have you ever been in love before?” she questions, genuinely curious to know, and not trying to torment herself with thoughts of women from his past. 

 

He swallows before answering and caresses her waist where it dips in before flaring out into her generous hip.

 

“I thought I was, a long time ago. I was convinced it was love. Until I met you.” 

 

It sounds like a line, but Arya knows better, and is shaken by the candour in his voice and stare. She tentatively rewets her lips and asks, “What made you unconvinced it was love after we met?”

 

“Because she never made me feel the way you do. I never got excited at the mere idea of knowing I was going to see her soon. I was never jealous when other blokes would blatantly hit on her in front of me. I didn’t think about her morning, noon, and night.” 

 

A lump starts to form in her throat, and her bottom lip trembles ever so slightly before whispering, “ _I love you_.”

 

Gendry presses his forehead against hers and whispers the sentiment back. They lay there for several minutes, enjoying the feeling of each other’s warm skin, lost in the headiness from declarations of love. Eventually, the sound of her stomach growling interrupts the moment, making him smile. 

 

“Let's get you fed, yeah?” He pats her flat stomach.

 

Arya groans in response and tells him, “I hope you weren’t expecting a cute, homemade breakfast this morning because I’m shite at cooking, but I know how to order take away on Quiqup.” 

 

“Perfect, we were made for each other then. What are you in the mood for?” Gendry asks while reaching for his phone on her night table. 

 

She gingerly rolls out of bed and pads over to her desk to pick up his folded button down shirt, then shrugs her arms into it, letting it hang open. 

 

“Whatever is simple enough and not messy so we can eat it in the bath.” 

 

Gendry tears his eyes away from his phone and looks up at her from under his brow with a smirk. “Bath?” he asks excitedly. 

 

“Yes, I deserve a long soak after having my body properly ravished by your horse dick,” Arya explains with a flirtatious smile, and gathers her hair into a loose knot at the top of her crown.

 

“ _MY WHAT_?” he laughs loudly, the sound travelling with her down the hall while she walks towards the loo to get an early start on filling up the enormous bathtub. When she reaches to turn on the water, Gendry’s metal stag cufflink slips out of the buttonhole and clatters against the side of the tub. She carefully picks it up and inspects it, making sure no harm has come to it and turns on the water. 

 

As she returns, she calls out to him, “Hound told me yesterday that I looked like I had been fucked six ways to Sunday by a horse. I couldn’t sword fight worth a shit.” When she reenters the room, she finds his eyebrows reaching his hairline. Arya grins at him and explains, “Said he’ll have a bill waiting for you at the competition for wasting his time yesterday.” 

 

Without even a moment of hesitation, Gendry asks, “How much?”

 

Arya walks to the side of the bed to pick up her pillow and swiftly beats him with it. “You’re not paying him a pence!” He easily grabs the pillow from her with one hand and while laughing, flings it into her face. 

 

She lets the pillow drop, not retaliating once she remembers she’s still holding on to his cufflink and checks the other sleeve to make sure its twin is still there, which it is. Arya sits on the side of the bed, admiring the intricately detailed work on the little stag. 

 

“What’cha got there?” Gendry asks while scrolling on his phone, looking for breakfast to be delivered.

 

“Your cufflink. Remember whe-”

 

“Of _course_ I bloody well remember, are you joking, woman?” He looks up at her incredulously, borderline offended, which makes her dissolve into a fit of laughter. “I wanked myself raw that entire weekend after that little stunt you pulled.” 

 

“Did you really?!” 

 

He simply gives her a look. “What do _you_ think?” It makes her smile and blush. 

 

“Did you have a plan that night when you very inappropriately relieved me of my cufflink and rolled my sleeve that night?” Gendry asks her in a suggestive tone. 

 

Arya looks at him with a sly, confident smile. “Yeah, I did. And it worked.” 

 

Gendry stares at her for a beat with an unreadable expression, before he continues quietly placing an order on his phone. He then sets it aside on her night table, and immediately pounces on her, causing her to shriek with delight.

 

••

 

“Would I have liked you back then, when you were going to uni?” 

 

They’re submerged in a warm bath facing each other with millions of soapy bubbles surrounding them that Gendry continues to gather in his hands and attach to her face, forming a white beard to go nicely with the bubble mohawk he’s given her. He can’t help but snort in laughter. 

 

“How do I look?” Arya asks while pretending to strike a pose. 

 

“Marvelous,” he answers, then adorns the tip of her nose and her rosy nipples with carefully sculpted round bubbles. 

 

“You’re having way too much fun.” 

 

“You’re a beautiful canvas, I can’t help but be inspired,” Gendry explains while adding more bubbles to her face. She smiles sarcastically at him as she feels her bubble beard growing exceptionally larger. 

 

“I was a bit of a heathen back then. Always angry, stubborn, getting into trouble. My mates called me The Bull.”

 

Since his tone suggests that he’s about to reveal a secret to her, Arya fights the urge to tease him by saying, _What’s changed?_ Instead, she asks, “I thought you were a Stag?” He begins deconstructing his bubble masterpieces, revealing her skin and hair underneath again. Still facing him, she leans forward to lay against his wet chest under his chin. One hand caresses her back while the other massages her inner thigh under the water to work out the soreness for her. 

 

“I am, but I didn’t find out about my father’s family crest until I was in my twenties.” 

 

“Why’s that?” she asks.

 

“Well, the only reason I was even able to go to uni was because my father died and left me money in his will. I never met him before, didn’t even know who he was. Mum would never tell me anything about him. Then on my eighteenth birthday, I found out he was some rich whoremonger involved in politics, which is why my mum kept silent for years about who he was. Then she proceeded to tell me that he had just died two days prior.” 

 

Arya lifts her cheek from off his chest to look at him, eyes shining with empathy. “I’m so sorry,” she tells him softly. Gendry shrugs his shoulders lightly and smiles at her. “’S’alright. I ended up getting to know his brothers and my half-siblings. But back then all I really wanted was a dad.” 

 

She knows there’s nothing she can do to fix the past for him, so instead, she makes sure to funnel her need to provide an emotional bandaid through her kiss against his lips, hoping he feels her intention. By the look in his eyes when she pulls away, he does.

 

“So yeah, I don’t know if you would have liked me all that much back then, but I know I would have been just as smitten with you.” He wraps his arms tightly around her and kisses her forehead.

 

“Have any photos of yourself from back then that I can see?” 

 

Gendry ponders for a moment. “Yeah, I might. Think I’ve got some on my laptop at home.”

 

“Then we’re going back to your flat for the rest of the weekend,” she confidently announces and snuggles into him, creating slight waves in the water from her readjustments. “Besides, I haven’t finished imprinting myself onto every surface of your gaff.”

 

His chuckles cause her whole body to shake gently against his chest. “Planning on marking your territory?”

 

“Of course. My work isn’t done until you can no longer remember the names of any woman you’ve been with.”

 

Gendry nuzzles his face against her neck and whispers, “What women? I’ve already forgotten,” which makes her smile triumphantly. “And what about your room then,” he continues, “have I properly marked my territory?”

 

“Seeing as how you’re the only man who has ever been in my bed and considering the ruined state of the sheets, I’d say you did brilliantly. Nice one, Baratheon.” 

 

She feels his burgeoning erection pressing against her under the water. 

 

“We’re never getting out of this bath, are we?” she questions needlessly. 

 

“Nope.” 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves! 🥰
> 
> This chapter picks up directly where chapter 10 left off, and includes screenshots of Arya's fictional Instagram! 
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
> 
> [ALMCIYV Spotify Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2gctWzLG3y8ij2vAAMZoSF)
> 
> **Follow me for sneak peeks, updates and more!**
> 
> [Tumblr](https://moonstruckandkissedinsane.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/fallon.corinne/)
> 
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“How does it feel not to be a virgin anymore?” Gendry inquires, while his hand massaging her inner thigh drifts a little higher along her skin under the warm water. Arya is leaning back against his chest, nestled between his legs, and idly caressing both with a hand wrapped around each sculpted calf muscle. Her head is laid back on his shoulder, hair up in a messy top knot with small bubbles framing the sides of her face.

 

“It feels lovely. And a little concerning. You've created a randy sex-crazed monster out of me,” Arya answers with a smile, long dark lashes laid against her cheek with her eyes closed. “I’m really glad I lost it to you,” she tells him sincerely with a quick turn of her head to plant a kiss against the bottom of his stubbled jaw. ”And not just because you have an amazing cock and are fuckin’ ace at using it,” she finishes with a smirk.

 

Gendry grins wolfishly against her neck, purposely rubbing his scruff on her delicate skin. He’s rewarded with a soft moan. His hand reaches through the bubbles in their bath to grab her perky, rose tipped breast and squeezes, making her bend back into him slightly.

 

“I'm really glad I was your first, too. Thank you for choosing me.” Gendry has never taken the virginity of a woman before. Even when he lost his own, he hadn't been her first. For Arya to not only want him but to also trust him enough with this gift that she can only give once is an incredible honour. And not a single time that they’ve coupled has he taken it lightly. Rather, his connection to her has intensified considerably every time she's allowed him inside her body. 

 

An amused laugh escapes Arya. ”I should be thanking _you_. I’ve had the hugest crush on you since September. Before that night in the smithy, I never thought I’d ever get the chance to experience having you for myself; you were unattainable for so long.”

 

”So were you,” Gendry reminds her with an arm wrapping around her waist to hug her. ”I'm glad that didn't stop you from successfully weakening my defences that night when you rolled my sleeve,” he tells her with a sexy grin. Arya wiggles back into him, pressing her ass against his balls and half-hard cock with a happy sigh. While they’re on the topic, there’s something he’s been curious to know.

 

“Had you ever come close to losing your virginity before?” he asks and returns one of his hands to the top of her thigh to continue massaging her quad muscle that she complained earlier was sore. ”You’re fucking gorgeous, I’m sure you’ve had blokes on the pull queued up for you at school, trying to get a chance with you at every turn. Probably _still_ do. Do you?” Gendry’s voice goes from inquisitive to flirtatious to jealous within the span of one breath. It makes her laugh, and the movement of her head causes her hair to tickle his nose. 

 

“There are no bloody blokes queued up for me anywhere. You’re the only one queued up, right behind me as a matter of fact.” She splashes water back in his direction, which manages to hit the side of his face. He wrestles both of his muscled arms around her waist and over her surprisingly strong arms to hold them down and prevent her from further splashing him; making Arya laugh and squirm in halfhearted protest. He groans as his cock begins to enlarge as a result of her movements underwater.

 

“Ah, come off it. I doubt that very much.” He looks down and sees her bite the corner of her lip when he releases her arms to fill each palm with her slippery tits. Arya’s hips thrust upwards gently beneath the dense cloud of bubbles, subconsciously seeking attention. 

 

“I’ve never come close to losing it before. Been saving myself for someone worthy, thank you very much,” Arya explains with a faux indignant sniff, before finishing in a voice more sincere. “Then a few months ago, I realized I was saving myself for you, even though I didn’t expect you to ever collect it.” 

 

Gendry shows her his appreciation for waiting for him by gently kneading her full breasts and leaving tender kisses on her neck and along the shell of her ear, eliciting the softest of moans that shoot straight to his groin. Her hands begin to slide back on his thighs. “Earlier…had you ever done that before?” He instantly knows she’s referring to him tonguing her between her plump cheeks upon waking him this morning. 

 

“No, never,” he breathes against her neck and plucks her beautiful hardening nipples. She’s given him so many of her firsts already. Inadvertently, Arya gave him one of his firsts as well. 

 

“It certainly didn’t _feel_ like your first attempt,” she teases with a coquettish grin, looking up over her shoulder at him. It causes his cock to twitch against her lower back.

 

He looks down at her under heavy lids. “Maybe I’ve had a lot of time to fantasize about doing that to you.” 

 

“Since when?”

 

Gendry lays his forehead against her shoulder and groans in embarrassment. 

 

”What?” she asks with amusement laced in her voice.

 

“You’re going to think I’m some pervy mongrel of a professor.”

 

“Too late.”

 

“Oi!” He pinches her nipple in retaliation, making her yelp and giggle. He sighs in acquiesce and begins recounting the memory for her. “Since literally the first time I saw you. I looked up, and you had just walked past my desk, wearing unlaced Doc Martens with the tightest pair of black jeans.” As he speaks, Arya’s hands trail up and down the outside of his thighs. “I had only seen you from behind, but I remember starring at your _incredible_ arse, wishing I could get my hands on it. Then when you finally sat down, I saw your face and was about to burst through my zipper.”

 

Arya’s chuckles turn into happy hums of approval at his confession, and with a smile, she asks, “So you’re an arse man then, I take it?”

 

He laughs gently into her hair above her ear. “Yeah, guess you could say that. At least for you, I am. Yours is absolutely perfect.” She shifts in his arms to rub the subject of their conversation against his fully erect member, drawing a frustrated groan from deep within his chest, before turning around to face him. As she rises on her knees in the bath to straddle his hips, warm sunlight breaks through the morning clouds and pours in through the window, creating tiny iridescent rainbows in the millions of bubbles surrounding them. The light reflecting off the white soapy billows covering the surface of the water makes her skin glow, which goes beautifully with her rosy cheeks, sterling grey eyes and dark tendrils of hair framing her face. Gendry thinks to himself that she looks like a goddess from a Pre-Raphaelite painting. 

 

“I what?”

 

 _Oh._ He said that out loud. 

 

Reaching for her hips, he stares into her eyes and with a slightly embarrassed smile, repeats, “You look like a goddess from a Pre-Raphaelite painting.” 

 

Arya’s eyes widen lovingly before playfully squinting at him as she grins and asks, “From a John Everett Millais painting or a William Holman Hunt one?”

 

Gendry whimpers when she seats herself in his lap. “That’s a trick question. You’re a fan of both.” 

 

“ _God_ , I love you,” she breathes out in a rush before pressing her lips against his and grinding her centre down on him underwater. He moans gratefully as she reaches between them to position his cock at her entrance and sinks down with the ease of a woman who has now done this innumerable times. The thick layer of bubbles obscures their vision from the action between their hips, which Gendry finds to be especially arousing. The visual and physical disconnect adds an extra layer of sensation to the experience of being inside of her whilst underwater. Arya takes him slowly, riding gently so as not to cause too much of a disturbance in the water. Her tongue plunders his mouth as she reaches for his hands on her hips and guides them around to her firm, round ass. She slides his hands down until they are both gripping the bottom of her cheeks together. Her shorter, dainty fingers spread wide in between each of his long rough digits, causing his index and middle finger to land in the crevice separating her cheeks. 

 

“Play,” she whispers to him. He backs his head up to meet her gaze and finds what were once sterling grey eyes, now appear to be black. The small triumphant grin on her face confirms his suspicion that it excites her to know she’s given him a sexual first that no other woman has. It also confirms that she wasn’t exaggerating when she said she enjoyed the attention he paid to that region earlier this morning. Gendry smiles lecherously at her before his tongue flicks out to lick her bottom lip. The fingers of both sets of hands begin to pull her wet, soapy cheeks apart while Arya’s cunt clenches tightly around his thickness, making him gasp. Her breath hitches on a desperate moan when his little finger drags up against the sensitive skin beginning at the back of her entrance where he’s currently stretching her. He continues to drag his finger all the way up until it reaches the small of her back, leaving her shivering in his arms and jerking her pelvis into his. 

 

When he retraces the path, his journey stops at where she’s most sensitive. The soapy bubbles in the water help aid his explorative fingertip in gliding easily over her delicate puckered flesh. Gendry keeps his little finger pressed against that spot as his hips drive up, hitting the back of her cunt hard and tearing a harsh guttural moan from her throat in doing so. Waves splash against the back tile and water escapes over the rim of the bath from the force of his thrusting hips. When his little finger begins to push gently, then release, before pushing again against her sensitive bud, Arya buries her face into his neck and sucks below his ear. She moans wantonly into his neck while he grunts into her shoulder; pressing his digit against her with a little more force. Her knees slide against the bottom of the tub to widen her thighs so she can push down harder against him; smashing his throbbing hardness against her cervix with every stroke. 

 

He begins to press his little finger harder, testing her. “S’alright?” he mumbles, dazed with overwhelming lust as Arya continues to shamelessly suck his neck and purposely clench and unclench around his painfully hard cock. She nods her head against his shoulder, his neck never leaving the suction of her plump lips and wet tongue. With his next hard thrust beneath her hips, he plunges the tip of his finger inside, making her sharply gasp and nip his skin with her teeth before releasing the sexiest, _filthiest_ moan he’s ever heard in his life. 

 

“ _Oh fuck, Arya,_ ” he whispers harshly into her shoulder, overcome with the sounds escaping her. It’s making his lower belly tighten, and his balls ache. He can’t imagine what it must feel like for her to be filled twice over, but just providing that for her and feeling the tight walls of her cunt fluttering around his cock is enough to make him fall helplessly into oblivion, filling her with his load. She comes soon after, shaking in his arms, and Gendry finds himself grateful, not for the first time, that he can stay hard for her after finding release first. When her muscles loosen, and she sags forward against his chest, panting in his ear, he gently retrieves the tip of his little finger, drawing another small gasp from her swollen lips. He cups both abundant globes, holding her against him while his cock continues to pulsate inside of her.

 

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, you’re going to be the death of me, Stark,” he breathes raggedly against her neck before placing kisses of gratitude along the column of her throat. 

 

She only hums sleepily in agreement, and they sit there wrapped together still joined until the water begins to chill. They startle when the cooling water reaches their senses; both not realizing they’ve dozed off for a brief, lovely moment. Arya picks her head up from off his shoulder and attempts to shake herself awake. 

 

“I thought only blokes fell asleep after sex,” Gendry teases with a drowsy, satisfied grin while slipping out of her. She rolls her eyes at him with a smile. He reaches automatically to cup the pink flesh between her thighs and helps wash her while she returns the favour. This is all very new to him, this loving, intimate care they willingly give each other without a word and without being asked. Arya inspires a need in him to protect and take care of her unlike he’s ever felt before with anyone else. It makes his heart warm and happy when she lets him and shows him the same courtesy. 

 

Arya ignores his jape and stifles a yawn before saying, “We need to take a shower to get all these bubbles off. You poured entirely too much bubble bath in.”

 

“I’ve never had a bubble bath before! I got excited,” he defends.

 

“ _Clearly_.” She tries to sound annoyed but grins nonetheless at him.

 

Arya reaches to unplug the bath and stands to close the shower curtain, leaving him sitting at the bottom of the tub, looking up at her as the water drains. Her hand tries to hide another yawn, and it pleases him immensely to see how tuckered out he’s made her. But he doesn’t want to waste their precious allotted time by sleeping, even though Gendry has never slept better in his life until discovering how heavenly sleep can be when laid next to her. She looks back down and asks, “What?” with a raised eyebrow at the adoring look on his face. He stands and looms over her, kissing the tip of her nose and says, “Nothin’. Just love you.” 

 

She smiles against his lips until he reaches behind her to turn the shower on and shocks her with the cold spray of water to wake her up. His laughter can be heard several doors down, along with her angry shrieks. 

 

••

 

It’s a warm spring day, and he’s down to his black vest, forgoing both his suit jacket and button down at Arya’s request. _“What? Your arms are lush, I wanna see them,_ ” she explained earlier before walking out the door, refusing to hand his clothes back to him. They’re on their way to Gendry’s flat to stay for the rest of the weekend. Along with Arya’s book bag, which she’s bringing so she doesn’t have to return home before class on Monday, she’s brought a small packed bag of clothes and toiletries to last her. Seeing it on the floorboard next to her feet in his car excites him more than a duffel bag should. 

 

When Arya asks if he has any gum, he tells her there should be some in his suit jacket, which is currently folded in her lap. She digs through each pocket until she finds the packet of gum at last, along with her black lace knickers she wore last night under her red dress.

 

“Professor Baratheon, what are you doing with my knickers in your pocket?” Arya teasingly admonishes him while the item in question dangles from her finger. Hearing her call him that sparks intrigue in his loins. Especially in that chastising voice she used.

 

“Oh, those are mine now,” he casually informs her before taking the turn down his street. “We’re even now, two for two. Don’t think I didn’t notice you stole my shirt. _And_ my hoodie,” Gendry playfully chastises her, absolutely loving that she stole his clothing.

 

She ignores his comment and sticks his keepsake back into his pocket with a smile. “At this rate, you’re going to need to buy me more knickers if you keep taking a pair after every time we shag.” 

 

“I am only _too_ happy to do that, love,” Gendry winks over at her and throws the car in park. She begins reaching for her door handle after he shuts off the ignition when he interrupts her.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

 

His authoritative tone stops her mid movement and makes her stare back at him before amusedly answering him, “Opening my door?”

 

“Stop that.” 

 

Before Arya has a chance to ask, he quickly jumps out of the car and jogs around the hood to open it for her.

 

“So you’ll open every door, but spraying me with freezing cold water is acceptable?” she flirts with mock disdain, stepping out of the car. 

 

Gendry bends down to grab both of her bags and bats her hands away when she tries relieving him of her heavy book bag. “Bloody hell, woman, what the fuck is in this bag? A body?” 

 

“Textbooks for _your_ class, wanker,” Arya cuts her eyes at him and shuts the car door. His eyes widen comically as they begin walking towards his building. “You think I just lift weights to train for fencing?” she continues. “I have to work out so I can carry those ridiculous books you insisted on.” 

 

“Apologies for breaking your back, m’lady. Where do you work out?” he asks while they ascend the stairs to his floor. 

 

“Usually at CrossFit Central London with Hound. We don’t participate in any of the group classes, but he has a nice training space of his own in the back that he rents since he knows the owners.”

 

They cross the threshold into his flat with Arya walking in first and heading straight for his bedroom. Watching her easily navigate her way inside his home makes Gendry feel giddy, and knowing he has her to himself until Monday morning feels like an early birthday gift. He follows after and deposits her bags on a chair in the corner before walking over to his closet to retrieve a 20kg Olympic barbell made of stainless steel. He holds it vertically as he carries it to Arya, then brings it down horizontally to deposit it into her outstretched hands. As soon as the barbell hits her palm, she expertly lets the bar roll until it’s resting on the edge of her fingertips, testing the balance. She regrips the bar and brings it to up to rest against her collarbone with her elbows high and holds the heavy bar delicately on her bent back fingertips before dropping down into a flawlessly performed squat. Thighs breaking parallel on the way down, her magnificent ass nearly touches the floor before her strong legs help her drive back up into a standing position; her spine straight the entire journey. Gendry watches her with awe. 

 

“So _that’s_ where your arse comes from.” 

 

“This bar is brilliantly made, where did you get it?” 

 

He sarcastically looks around the empty room, save for the two of them, then back at her. “Who do you think you’re talking to right now? I made it, of course.”

 

“Did you really? I thought your speciality was in weapons.” Arya sounds and looks impressed while taking a closer look at the metal in her hands.

 

“Steel is steel. I made it last summer at Davos’s smithy with the help of a mate of mine. We go to this small gym because it’s cheap, but they have shoddy equipment. Got tired of using their rusted barbells, so he helped me make one for us to share.” 

 

Arya beams at him before handing the barbell back. “We should work out together sometime,” she suggests. 

 

Visuals of spotting her from behind while she does back squats fill his mind, and he agrees to the suggestion immediately. Turning around to return the barbell to his closet, Gendry tells her, “I can’t wait to watch you compete. I bet you’re sexy as hell when you’re fencing.” 

 

Arya toes her boots off and hops onto his bed, making herself comfortable in the middle against his large pillows, and takes her phone out. 

 

“I can show you some pics.”

 

“I’d love that,” he smiles over at her. Gendry joins her on the bed after shucking his slacks and shoes off. Now only wearing a pair of grey boxer briefs and his black vest, he cuddles up next to her to wrap his arms around her waist so he can look over her shoulder down at her phone. 

 

“Is it weird that I feel naturally inclined to be either starkers or close to it when I’m around you?” 

 

“No, I was thinking the same thing. Thank God, because I’ve been dying to take these jeans off.” He laughs and helps her unbutton and tug the constricting denim off, leaving her in boy short knickers and a baggy white t-shirt. Now they feel completely comfortable and relaxed, lying in each other’s arms atop of his crisp sheets. Arya pulls up Instagram on her phone and shows him her profile.

 

 

“Do you have an Instagram account? I already searched but never could find you.” 

Gendry shakes his head and leans in closer, eyes darting around the bright screen. “No, I never take photos, so it didn’t seem worth having. You have a section called classic metalwork? And is that a photo of my arms shaping a horseshoe?!”

He can hear the eye roll. “ _Yes_ , there are photos of you on here,” she admits reluctantly, but with a grin. 

“ _Seriously_?” Gendry exclaims. Arya turns to look at him and seems to be gauging his expression to ascertain whether or not he is upset. He doesn’t even need to ask; he answers her instead. “I’m not upset. I’m chuffed!” She leans forward to give him a chaste kiss and pulls back with a smile. Returning her attention to the phone, she clicks on the most recent photo she took of him.

 

 

He stares at the photo and smiles, feeling flattered and definitely having his ego struck knowing she took and posted this photo shortly before _“that night”_ that they always refer to as the beginning of this affair, now turned relationship. 

“Admiring yourself?”

“Actually, yeah.” 

“Told you your arms are lush.” Next, she clicks on her Instastory highlight under fencing.

 

 

“That you?!” Gendry asks her animatedly. 

 

“Yes, you twat. It says I posed for a mate’s photo project, doesn’t it?” 

 

His hand immediately seeks her tit to pinch her nipple, which her hand tries to dodge. They laugh as they fight over her nipple for a brief moment before returning their attention to her phone. 

 

“You look incredible.” 

 

“Ta,” Arya thanks him and the next Instastory pulls up.

 

 

He makes her restart this Instastory several times. “You look like a bloody natural,” Gendry tells her, unsurprised but also highly impressed. A blush creeps high on her cheeks as she smiles. His lips seek out her warm cheek and deposits a kiss. When she returns to the main profile screen and begins scrolling, another photo of himself catches his eye. This time showing his face. 

 

“Woah, woah, that one. Click on that.” 

 

 

“I had no idea you even had your phone out! I remember that day,” Gendry says grinning, while his stomach turns summersaults. He finds himself absorbed in the memory of when this photo was taken last semester. Rubbing a hand down his face, Gendry feels suddenly exhausted just _thinking_ about the day in question. “Oh God, that day was completely _mad_.”

“The forge wasn’t working, right?”

“Because Brian, the lab tech didn’t have the chimney swept over summer break.”

“And there were a million students _everywhere_ complaining,” Arya recounts with annoyance. 

“Yeah, no one could get a thing done. Everyone kept pestering me with the same question, _when’s the forge gonna work_?” Gendry makes a frustrated noise. “How did you even find me and Brian up there, anyhow?”

“With my eyes.” 

“You fucking brat,” Gendry smirks at her and shakes his head.

“ _God_ , you’re sexy,” Arya sighs before crashing her lips against his and distracts them both for a solid three minutes. They grin at each other when they eventually pull apart. “Have you had a stress smoke since that day?” she asks. 

“Here and there. What about you? I seem to recall you bumming one from Brian when you joined us.” 

“Sometimes if I’m out drinking and someone is offering.”

There’s a beat before Gendry admits, “I thought you looked pretty sexy smoking, actually.”

“So do you,” she tells him with a smirk. 

“You never did answer.”

“How I found you two?”

Gendry nods his head, remembering when she walked out onto the roof of the smithy that afternoon and confidently strode up to the two men, asking to bum a fag. He was utterly fascinated with her, but they had been bumping heads for weeks in class since the beginning of the semester, and he was not only surprised to see her, but also that she had sought him out and was making polite conversation.

“Overheard you two whinging about the chimney.”

He stares at her for a moment before continuing, “This was right around the time you finally started warming up to me.” Gendry runs his fingers down the forearm holding her phone. 

She shrugs her shoulders and clicks out of the photo, back to her profile. “Maybe I needed a smoke as much as you two did.” 

Gendry squints at her with a growing smile. “That was the first time you had ever seen me wearing a vest!”

She elbows him in the chest. “Okay _fine_ ,” Arya finally admits. 

His celebration is short lived when his eyes cast back down to her phone and see the small circle featuring a photo of a man wrapped around _his_ little wolf.

“Who is _that_?” He reaches over and clicks on the circle to open the saved Instastory highlight.

 

 

Cold, sinking dread fills his stomach like lead, and he can’t help the jealous curiosity if this is the lucky cunt to have received Arya’s first blowjob. And why the fuck would this photo still be up on her Instagram.

“That’s my eldest brother, Robb.”

“Thank _fuck_ ,” Gendry exhales.

“Wha-were you _jealous_?” 

“Yeah! Look at you two!”

“We look alike!” Arya sounds disgusted.

He squints his eyes at her phone. “How the bloody fuck can I tell?! All I see is some geezer wrapped around my woman.”

“You’re adorable. And an idiot.”

The next Instastory plays.

 

 

Gendry smiles at the photo and asks, “How much does Sansa know?”

  
   
“Only that I’ve been seeing someone for about a month. I haven’t told her anything about you.”

  
   
He can’t help but feel a slight sting, which wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Gendry assumed he’d feel relief that their secret is still protected, but the longer they continue looking at photos of her life outside of the bubble they’ve created for themselves, he finds himself wanting to see himself included in these photos instead of just starring by himself in one.

  
   
“Podrick knows I’m seeing someone, too. He was home when he overheard Sansa shrieking about me coming home wearing your shirt.”

  
   
That makes him feel a bit better knowing an additional person is aware that she’s taken. He tries to refocus on the photos of her from her previous fencing competitions. 

  
   
“How long have you been fencing?”

  
   
“Since I was nine.”

  
   
Gendry pulls his head back to look at her, impressed. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to wait two weeks for your competition to see you in action.” 

  
   
A mischievous smile lights up Arya’s features. “Yeah? I noticed you have an épée in that amazing collection of weapons you have.” She wags her thick eyebrows at him, tantalizingly. 

  
   
His smile quickly matches hers. “Will my lady grace me with a demo?” 

  
   
Arya slips out of his arms and tosses the phone to the side, walking towards the hallway in nought but a pair of knickers and a baggy t-shirt. 

  
   
“You coming? Your demo awaits,” she teases over her shoulder.

  
   
“Not yet, but I have a feeling I will be soon,” Gendry mutters under his breath with a grin.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya gives Gendry a fencing lesson 🤺
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Gendry hops out of bed and digs through the top drawer of his nightstand to find the key that opens his weapon display case. Upon walking out into the hallway, he's met with the beauteous sight of Arya admiring the épée sword he crafted for an assignment in uni while pursuing his Bachelor of Arts degree in Metal and Blacksmithing years ago. Seeing her with hands and tip of nose pressed against the glass, and eyes shining bright with enthusiasm has him enraptured and is pulling firmly on his heartstrings. Hardly any of the women he's previously dated have ever given the items in that case more than a passing glance after seeing it for the first time. His last serious girlfriend three years ago attempted to feign interest in his metalwork creations, which he appreciated but was never left feeling completely satisfied after receiving one of her contrived compliments. Staring at Arya while she avidly studies the details on his sword makes him appreciate her even more and serves as further proof that she is the living, breathing epitome of his dream girl that he has fantasized about since he was sixteen. And she's _his_ , Gendry reminds himself with glee.

 

He begins walking closer when Arya asks, "How much do you know about the rules of fencing?" She still hasn't torn her eyes away from the weapon before her. 

 

"I know that this hallway is nearly the perfect width for a fencing bout. Not the right length, but it should do, yeah?" 

 

That makes her turn to look at him. "A fencing bout? Are you challenging me to a duel, _sir_? I thought this was going to be a demo," Arya says playfully with an inquisitive eyebrow and smile.  

 

He nods his head and smirks mischievously. "I want the full monty. A hands-on demo. Something similar to that right naughty plan of yours about how you were going to tell me that you fence." Gendry lifts an eyebrow at her as registration dawns on her face at the memory.

 

Arya's eyes gleam with brewing desire. "Even down to the rough part, putting a sword to your throat?"

 

A rosy blush blossoms across his chest, rising up his neck. "I said the full monty," he confirms.

 

She wets her bottom lip and looks at him with confident ease. "If that is your wish, I am happy to oblige." 

 

His loins begin to stir already. As he walks past her to the far end of the glass case, he quickly deposits a kiss on the side of her neck and squeezes her ample ass cheek that even her boy short knickers can't manage to cover completely, to his delight. Arya giggles flirtatiously in response and bounces on the balls of her feet in anticipation of getting her hands on that sword and enacting the sexting conversation they had not too long ago. He grins widely at her excitement while unlocking the case and sliding the glass open to retrieve the épée. Gently, he places the sword into her eager hands. She wastes no time in wrapping her hand around the pistol grip beneath the bell guard and tests the weight and flexibility of the blade. The contagious smile on her face as she continues to direct all of her attention to the maraging steel forged by him is making him fall even deeper in love with her. Without hesitation, Gendry quickly leans down to capture her lips in an ardent kiss. She responds quickly and passionately in kind. His hand rises to hold the back of her head as he presses one last determined kiss against her lips, hoping it translates the multitude of feelings she inspires within him.  

 

"Thank you. For giving a shite about my swords. It means…a lot, actually," he confesses. 

 

Arya tilts her head with a slightly perplexed expression. "Your swords are _incredible._  Why wouldn't I give a shite about them? They're the best I've ever seen."

 

The fact that she even asks the rhetorical question gives him a warm rush and affirms how perfect she is for him. "You'd be surprised," he offers simply with a smile and shrug. Straightaway, understanding dawns on her face.

 

"Yeah, me too. Thanks for caring about my fencing. Most lads I've met seem intimidated by a woman who fights with swords for fun." Arya's voice goes into that soft melodic rhythm that she often uses when being sincere. It has him captivated. 

 

"I think you're utterly brilliant," Gendry tells her earnestly. 

 

Arya grabs a fistful of his undershirt to pull him back down roughly to meet her lips to show her gratitude. After releasing him, she flattens her hand against his pec and pushes him back gently. "Now grab that sabre, Baratheon," she orders in a sultry, low voice. 

 

He obediently does as he's told. After grabbing the other fencing sword in his collection, he slides the glass closed and turns to find her looking at him from the opposite end of the hallway. 

 

"This might hurt without protective lamé on if I land any strikes," Arya warns him whilst her index finger and thumb play with the protective metal button covering the tip of the dull blade.

 

"Looking forward to it." He merely winks at her while readjusting his grip on the pommel of his sword, and with a flick of his wrist, spins the sword forwards, then back upright again. The movement is smooth and effortless. And by her soft, widening eyes, he can tell he impresses her so far. 

 

"Lesson the first: always salute your opponent with your sword as a notion of respect and that you agree to be honourable." Arya extends her left arm and holds the sword vertically close in front of her face, eyes never leaving his. 

 

Arya lowers the tip of the épée to the floor, then re-extends her left arm and repositions her feet into a slight lunge with her right arm behind her back and says, " _En garde_." Which signifies to Gendry to fall into the same position. He does, but not nearly as graceful as she did.

 

" _Pret_." Her thighs dip lower into the lunge after calling out what the directeur of a fencing bout would command in French to indicate to the opponents to be ready. Gendry is already turned on at the mere sight of her holding his sword and calling out French commands. But her wearing nothing more than a baggy white t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts that are proudly displaying the naked crescent bottoms of her perfectly round, plump cheeks _while_ holding his sword and challenging him with it, is making him incredibly hard. And of course, her eyes hone directly on it immediately. A huge grin overtakes her beautiful face before she brings her jovial eyes back to his, still standing in position, ready to attack.

 

"I don't need to ask if this is doing anything for you, do I?" Arya banters with him. 

 

"Oh, this? Is _absolutely_ fucking turning me on, yes," he answers without a single beat. 

 

Arya laughs loudly and bends at the waist, her slightly curly hair from being up in a top knot earlier flies overhead. Her laughter is infectious. After a moment, she forces herself to stop and corrects her posture again. Right before she lunges toward him with her outstretched arm, she yells, " _Allez!_ " Gendry knows that means to go ahead, to begin the attack. She doesn't lunge far enough to actually strike him or even touch his blade, she's merely demonstrating at the moment since he isn't even standing in the correct posture. His sword is pointing down at the floor, all because he's so absorbed in watching her and has forgotten he's supposed to participate. His bulge grows thicker in his boxer briefs. 

 

"Are you going to at least _attempt_ to spar with me?"

 

"Look, I'm sorry, right? But this is a bit of a dream coming true, and I'm about three seconds away from pushing you up against that glass and fucking you senseless." He sounds hopeless and apologetic. 

 

Her chest rises and falls in laughter she's trying desperately to contain, and he can see the outline of her hardening nipples as they rub beneath her shirt. She cuts her eyes at him and teases lightheartedly, "I'm _trying_ to be deadly and sexy and sorta dominatrix-y? If that's a thing? So _stop fucking about_. Pay attention." 

 

Gendry definitely _is_ now. "Yes, ma'am." He nods his head and falls into a lunge with his right arm outstretched. A small smirk pulls at the corner of her full lips, and she falls back into the same posture. She advances without warning, and with just the mere flick of her fingers, not even needing to use the power of her wrist, she slides her sword gracefully over his, starting from the left to feint an attack in order to disengage and slide her sword gracefully back over his when he attempts to parry in defence. The sound of steel sliding against steel is sharp, and he finds it to be incredibly arousing. 

 

Apparently, the sound is turning her on as well. She's biting the corner of her lip the same way she does when he sucks on her nipples, while their swords playfully engage and slide over and under each other. Gendry has to use the full rotation of his wrist to move his sword, but she's only using her bloody fingers, barely exerting herself. From what he's seen and learnt about fencing, he knows that only the pros can pull that manoeuvre off. And she's doing it with complete, masterful ease. 

 

"You're bloody amazing, Stark," he says with reverence in his voice, staring at the hypnotic pattern in which she parries against his offensive moves with smooth, unhurried ease. 

 

"I know," is her cheeky reply, and without warning, she disengages her sword from his, outmanoeuvres him and lunges forward to tap the end of her épée into his chest. "Touché," Arya declares.

 

He gasps in shock and slight pain and tries to fend off her attack, but she is walking him backwards, pressing the tip harder into his chest until the sword bends beautifully, as though it were only a piece of plastic wire and not made of pliable steel. She continues to walk him back, digging the protective metal cover on the tip of her blade harder into his chest with each step, until he lowers and drops his sword and his back hits the end of the hallway. Chest heaving, Gendry stares down at her with heavily restrained lust. 

 

"Do I have your attention now, Professor Baratheon?" Arya's voice is silk, and he feels it caress him, from the tip of his ears to between his thighs. 

 

"Yes, ma'am," Gendry breathes out and leans his head down to look at her challengingly, pressing his chest harder into the end of her dull blade.

 

"Good." She grins at him and backs off, releasing the blade from his chest. The sword springs back straight. Arya then quickly raises it to rest against his throat at an angle. The edge isn't sharp, as no fencing swords are, so she digs it a little further into his neck. He's embarrassed by how turned on he is, and knows if they were to look down at this very moment, they'd find the tip of his red cock straining out of the flap of his boxers as though he were a randy teenager again. Without looking away from his eyes, her free hand suddenly cups his hard bulge as though his thoughts alone summoned her touch. He grunts at the pressure of her hand, and the sword still pressed against his neck.

 

Arya tilts her chin up to meet his gaze, and while stroking him through his pants, she asks above a whisper, "Do I have your permission to manhandle you?"

 

"Haven't you been already?" is his hoarse reply. He's teasing, but her face softens in regret, and she relieves the pressure from off his throat. "I'm sor-

 

"No, no! I like it," Gendry rushes to assure her, and his hand reaches for her wrist to bring the blade back. She smiles, encouraged, and presses the sword back into his skin. 

 

The warmth of her hand leaves his covered hardness, while the sword remains. "Take off your clothes," she demands in one of the sexiest voices he's ever heard. The contrast between Arya pressing a weapon against his jugular and her softly spoken commands is making him intoxicated with unadulterated lust. His chest rises with each inhale while he does as he's told and peels the undershirt off over his head before kicking his boxer briefs off down his legs, leaving him proudly nude before her, waiting for the next command. She only removes the blade from his throat when necessary. Gendry stands back up straight, still pressed against the wall, looking down at her expectingly

 

"Sit down," Arya tells him, and he gives her an excited grin while lowering himself to the hardwood floor of the hallway, his legs laid out straight before him. She steps over and frames his hips with her feet. 

 

"Take my knickers off," is her next whispered order. The sword is tilted at an angle below his chin. Gendry's eyes dart between the apex of her thighs and her face as he pulls the fabric slowly off her hips, revealing beautiful brown curls and swollen lips begging for the touch of his lips and tongue. He drags the cotton down her legs, caressing her smooth skin on the way down until she picks one foot up to free her ankle of the fabric with his assistance. Her taut thighs begin to lower herself down until she is hovering right over his straining, leaking hardness, while still holding the blade against his throat. Knowing she's in charge, Gendry has to resist the natural urge to grab her hips to slam her warm wetness down onto him. He can't help but release a frustrated sound, closing his hands into fists. 

 

Arya leans her face closer to his, thighs not even shaking as they sit mid-air above his hips to avoid her centre from touching his member, and whispers to him, "Beg me to sit on your cock." 

 

Gendry groans deep in his chest, his long hardness twitching in anticipation beneath her strong thighs. His eyes bore into hers as he whispers huskily, " _Please_ sit on my cock. I need to feel you so bad, Arya. _Please_ , love." 

 

His hips can't help but give an involuntary jerk. The tip nearly brushes against her wet lips. Grinning victoriously, she digs the dull blade deeper into his skin, making Gendry's chest rise with laboured breath and his eyes dilate until they're nearly completely black. His little she-wolf allows herself to fall into his lap at long last, sliding down his thickness with practiced ease and welcoming every inch deep inside her; the tight walls of her cunt squeezing him mercilessly all the way down. They both moan loudly together at the sensation of completely filling her in one solid stroke. She releases the blade from his throat and discards the sword onto the floor next to them, then quickly returns her hands to cup his face and crush her lips harshly against his in a demanding kiss. Lifting herself to balance on the balls of her feet on either side of his hips, she begins to bounce down onto his rigid cock, drawing deep grateful moans from Gendry's throat as she begins to fuck him shamelessly into the floor. It feels as though he's hitting her even deeper in this position, causing his balls to tighten already, and making him curse under his breath. Arya sucks on his neck while dragging her blunt fingernails down his chest, leaving long lines of red welts, and making him hiss and groan when her nails scratch across the tender skin where her blade landed. The sweet mixture of pain with mind-numbing pleasure makes his cock throb within her. He holds on to her ankles to steady her as her bouncing becomes frantic and her panting moans increase in intensity. Gendry's hands are dying to squeeze her bouncing tits underneath her shirt, to guide her hips and smack her inviting ass. Resisting the primal urge to take over and start drilling his hips between her thighs is taking all the available will power he possesses, but he absolutely loves the feeling of letting her fuck him and take complete control.  

 

Eventually, she slows the maddening gyrations of her hips and grinds down on his hardness, bringing the balls of her feet down to rest flat in a squat. Arya leans back to rip off her t-shirt, revealing the sweat that has been pooling between her gorgeous, perky tits. His tongue darts out as he leans forward to chase the droplets of sweat cascading between the valley of her breasts. Now unable to keep his mouth and hands to himself, he quickly sucks a nipple into his mouth and wraps his large hands around her hourglass hips. The way her breathing hitches each time he drags his teeth across the surface of her hard nipple, causes his hips to drive up and hold her hips down against him, making her take it all. Arya moans with a filthy smile, looking down at him. Leaning her elbows on top of his shoulders to wrap her arms loosely around his head, she continues to grind down, smashing his tip against the back of her cunt, making them both groan helplessly at the feeling. Once he releases her nipple, Gendry raises his head to look at her with wet lips. 

 

After giving his bottom lip a loving bite, Arya whispers tauntingly, "I bet you'd love to manhandle me right about now, wouldn't you?" 

 

Gendry swallows thickly, but before he has a chance to respond, she leans around the side of his face to whisper enticingly into his ear, "Isn't that right, _daddy_?" 

 

Upon hearing Arya whisper that, he begins to lose his resolve and immediately digs his fingers possessively into her hips, drawing a gasp from her between ecstasy and pain. His pecs rise and fall quickly as he looks into her blown-out pupils. Gendry prides himself on being a gentleman, but he is also a man. A man with base instincts that Arya is relentlessly calling on at the moment, demanding that they come out to play. He's been so incredibly patient, letting her ride him and take what she wants and needs from his body without exerting any sort of control or direction. And he's loved every last minute of it. But his precious Arya has just called out to a primal side of him that she hasn't seen before. It seems she can sense this, as gooseflesh now begins to envelop her skin. She visibly swallows as she watches the reaction she has roused from him begin to unfold on his features and eyes.

 

"You want it rough? Is that what you're saying?" Gendry's voice comes out low and hoarse, with a slight edge of warning. He jerks his hips up into her, causing her eyes to close and head to roll back on a moan. Her neck is loose from the intense shooting pleasure between her thighs, and he takes the opportunity to lavish her neck with biting kisses. Once she finds the strength to look back down at him, his heart races at the intensity of her gaze. 

 

" _Yes, please_." 

 

"Please, _what_?" He needs to hear it again, and she knows it. 

 

Arya licks her lips and nuzzles her face against his. She grinds down harder on his cock, making him groan, right before she throws gasoline over an already raging fire by moaning wantonly into his ear, " _Please fuck me_ _hard, daddy_." 

 

Gendry makes her yelp when he suddenly wraps his strong arm around her waist and snatches her up while he stands with her legs still clutched around his hips. His cock is still buried deep within Arya as he carries her a few paces over to the middle of the hallway towards his room. Instead of heading for his bed, he turns and presses her naked back up against the glass of the weapon display case, and begins fucking her with wild abandon. Arya cries out in delight, digging her nails into his shoulders as she tries to hold on tight to his hips with the strength of her thighs alone. The glass shakes behind her with every powerful thrust he drives deep into her sopping wet cunt, causing her to both excitedly laugh and moan, "More! More! _Don't stop_ , oh, _please_ don't stop!"

 

Hearing her excitement as Gendry unleashes the full capacity of his dominant side and fucks her furiously is making it _really_ difficult not to spiral into bliss before her. His panting breaths fan across her sweaty neck and collarbone with every snap of his hips against hers. Gendry pounds into her with the full force his hips are capable of, knowing with confidence that the glass behind her isn't at threat of breaking; it's double insulated, and he mounted it himself. The deliciously filthy sounds she's making has him entranced until the sight of the swords over her shoulder catches his eye. He bites down hard on her neck and moans before lowering her legs to the ground, slipping wetly out of her. Arya groans in protest and wobbles on unsteady legs for a brief moment, dazed. Before she has a chance to argue, he roughly grabs her by her upper arms and quickly spins her to press her up against the glass. She immediately reaches out to brace herself with palms flat. Holding on to her hips, he pulls her back until her spine arches, and she's pressing her ass into him. Chest heaving, Gendry reaches down to guide his cock in, and as soon as he glides inside, he begins roughly taking her from behind. He inspires sharp, high-pitched cries from her throat as he hits her deeply and drags across her G spot. The force of his thrusts causes her tits and the side of her face to press up against the glass. Her sweaty hair is a mess, and dark strands lay haphazardly across her face and eyes. 

 

Every pant coming from her lips fogs the glass beneath her cheek. The sight and the feel of her are too erotic, he won't be able to hold out for too much longer, so he slows his thrusts to grab both of her wrists to hold them together with one of his large hands, above her head against the glass. Gendry holds on to her hip with his free hand and fucks her young, tight pussy that has only known the feel and stretch of _his_ cock; has only been filled with _his_ seed, and is now quaking and clenching around _his_ thickness, pulsating in orgasm that he alone is responsible for giving her. Arya's repetitive moans of his name rise sharply into desperate cries of ecstasy through her release, but whether the neighbours can hear or not, he doesn't give a goddamn because he's here proving a point right now.

 

Continuing to fuck her intensely, he releases her hip to grab a fistful of her sweaty hair at the nape of her neck to pull her head back from the glass and demands from her in a voice ragged with concupiscence, " _Say you're mine, Arya._ " 

 

" _I'm_ _yours! I'm only yours,_ " Arya cries loudly and earnestly, pushing her ass back against him to prove it, and to feel him reach even deeper inside her swollen, tight cunt. After a couple more thrust, he pushes further to bury himself entirely to the hilt, and growls into her neck, " _Mine,_ " as he spills every drop he has inside of her. 

 

After several long moments, they eventually catch their breath, and he realizes he's still pinning Arya against the glass. Gendry leans back at once and slips out of her. Without warning, he loops his arms under her knees and carries her off to bed, cradling her sweaty, limp body against his chest without any protest from her. Once he drops her onto the bed, he makes her laugh when he carelessly drapes his body across hers, trying to get into bed. He repositions himself, so his weight is off of her, and he can lay his head against her chest with a protective arm wrapped around her small waist. Arya wraps an arm around his shoulders and absently runs her fingers up and down his arm and through his sweaty hair.

 

"How am I going to be able to resist fucking you at your competition?"

 

"For starters, I won't be half naked."

 

"Well, _obviously_ , I know that. And doesn't matter anyway, you move like a goddess when you're sparring." 

 

"You really think so?" 

 

There's a vulnerability in her voice he doesn't hear often. It makes him raise his head to plant tender kisses against her throat. 

 

"Yes, I'm serious. You're already a bloody pro, you ought to be doing that for a career and make money with sponsorships."

 

Gendry says it only half joking. He can hear her heart begin to race beneath his ear. 

 

"Actually…" 

 

"…yeah?" He prods after she hesitates. 

 

"Not many people know this, but, my secret dream is to join the British Women's Olympic Fencing Team." 

 

He leans up on his elbow to look down at her with a huge, encouraging smile. "That's brilliant! You should, Arya!" 

 

Her eyes skitter between both of his, seemingly scared to believe he'd be so supportive. Gendry shakes his head at her and asks, "What?"

 

"I just…not even my family is _that_ supportive and only a couple of them know, including my father. I guess I'm used to having to defend it, is all." 

 

Hearing that stirs his stubborn protectiveness. "Well, they _should_ support it. Your dream is valid, it's not daft. You're seriously talented." 

 

Arya beams up at him and brings him back down for a kiss full of loving gratitude. "Calm down," she coos at him before their lips reach one another. That makes him laugh against her lips. 

 

She changes the subject soon after to remind him that he owes a viewing of old photos of himself, and Gendry takes her cue and doesn't press for more information. But the look of sincere appreciation in her eyes after telling her she should go after her dream sticks with him throughout their weekend together. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves! Thank you so much for all your support and for sticking with this story of mine! It means so much to me! 
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> In this chapter, we're getting a whole lot of fluffy fluff, mixed with real life shit, mixed with some backstory and intrigue, oh my!
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_**Sunday, 29 April 2019** _

 

Early Sunday morning finds Gendry alone in bed. He shifts while in the twilight between sleep and waking, and the absence of Arya’s warmth draws him into alertness. Sleepily, his hand pats the sheets next to him to ascertain whether she’s rolled away or if she’s gone. Not finding his fingers colliding against her soft skin, he rises slowly onto his elbows and squints around the room. Her belongings are still sitting in the chair in the corner, so he plops back down and closes his eyes, assuming she’s in the loo. Gendry nearly falls back to sleep until he hears the soft sounds of whimpering coming from down the hall through the opened bedroom door. That startles his eyes into opening, and he leans an ear to listen. When he hears Arya whimper once more, he immediately bolts up out of bed completely naked and walks down the hall to approach the loo. 

 

“Arya?” he quietly asks after lightly knocking on the door. His voice is rough with sleep.

 

“Yeah?” Arya answers on the other side, sounding meek; her utterance laced with suffering. 

 

“You alright?”

 

“ _No_ , I’m not. I’m pissing fire.” 

 

“ _Aww, fuck_ ,” Gendry says regretfully as he knocks his forehead against the door out of guilt. “I’m sorry, love. That’s my fault. Uh, let's get you to, _what’s open_ , an urgent care? You need meds, yeah?” 

 

There’s a pause. 

 

“ _Yeaah_ , how did you know?”

 

“Well…” He lets the lingering silence speak for itself. She’s clever and picks right up on it. 

 

“Ah. Well, aren’t you the picture of a gentleman. How many women have you sent to hospital?” 

 

“Oi,” Gendry defends against her sarcastic tone. He takes a deep breath and releases a long sigh, trying to wake up. Guilt begins to gnaw at him for putting her unintentionally through this pain. It was bound to happen after the amount of sex they’ve had since Thursday evening. They’ve had more sex over the course of three days than Gendry had over the entire course of his last relationship, it feels like. He actually found himself relieved for the first time late last night to be able to keep up with her newly awoken libido. 

 

“I’ll drive. Can I get you anything?”

 

“Don’t suppose you have any cranberry juice, d’you?”

 

He winces. “No, ‘fraid not. Sorry.”

 

“It’s okay, I’ll be out in a minute.”

 

Feeling helpless, he stares at the closed door for a few seconds longer before retreating back to his room and calls over his shoulder, “I’ll get dressed.” 

 

A couple minutes later as he’s stepping into a pair of jeans, Arya shuffles back into the room naked, shoulders hunched and a hand resting against her lower belly. He instantly walks over to meet her halfway, his zip undone and tufts of dark curls peeking out. Her thick eyebrows are pinched together in pain, causing his expression to mirror hers out of sympathy as he reaches a hand down to slip under her smaller one. Gendry’s long fingers and broad palm covers more distance than hers, and he hopes it’s providing her some level of comfort and warmth. Arya lifts her chin to look up at him with an exaggerated, adorable pout, which he leans down to kiss. 

 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Gendry softly apologizes while raining gentle kisses over the expanse of her cheeks and forehead. 

 

“So this is the infamous honeymoon cystitis my sister keeps warning me about,” Arya’s voice drawls, tinted with annoyance. She returns his kiss after his lips find their way back to hers, and squeezes his hand against her stomach before pulling away to pick up a pair of shorts from off the floor to start getting dressed. 

 

“I told you to use the loo last night after-”

 

“I was knackered, you made my legs incapable of walking. In fact, _you_ should have carried me then,” she argues, and Gendry can’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips while rifling through his closet for a shirt. 

 

“Aye, I should have, but _you_ also wore me out.” It’s not a jape. It’s a fact.

 

Arya throws on the pair of loose fitting shorts she often wears to the gym and forgoes a bra before joining him in front of his closet. She reaches inside, sliding hangers as he pulls on a white t-shirt. When his head pops back out through the neck, he catches sight of her inspecting each shirt as though she’s looking for one in particular. Seeing her topless and searching through his closet with the ease and familiarity of a long term girlfriend gives him a thrill of satisfaction.  

 

“What good is spontaneous sex then if you have to use the bloody loo before and after every time? Defeats the purpose,” Arya whines. 

 

He moves to stand behind her as she continues her search, and wraps his hands around her waist. Softly Gendry runs the pads of his fingertips up and down her sides before reaching higher to cup her perky tits, massaging them gently, and evoking a soft moan from her. “What are you looking for?” he mutters into her hair on the crown of her head before placing a kiss there.

 

“For one of your forging shirts.” She slides another couple of hangers.

 

“Oh, I don’t hang those, I just stuff them into the bottom dresser.” He moves away to open the drawer and fetch one. “Have a preference?” Gendry asks with an amused smile. 

 

“Any will do.” She manages a small smile in return despite being in pain. 

 

He grabs an old football t-shirt that has seen better days. It was one of his favourites until it was accidentally ruined, so he repurposed it as a forging shirt and bought another to replace it.

 

“Except for that one. I can’t wear that. That’s my father’s team’s rival.” 

 

Gendry looks down at the baby blue Manchester City shirt in his hand that means a great deal to him. “Ah, he’s a Man United fan then, eh?” he asks disappointedly.

 

The unamused raised arch of her eyebrow is Arya’s answer. 

 

“Would you wear it if I said they’re my team?” he asks with a teasing, hopeful smile. 

 

She turns her head and cuts her eyes at him. “You’re asking a lot of me right now,” she responds sarcastically. 

 

He shoots her a grin. “I _really_ want to see you wear this.” 

 

They stare at one another. 

 

“Please?” he asks with as much charm as he can muster. 

 

Arya huffs and snatches the shirt out of his hands to throw it over her head. It’s much too large and billows around her, but goddamn if she doesn’t look absolutely sexy wearing it. He finds it to be an incredible turn on to not only see her in his favourite team’s footy shirt but one that he wears while working the forge. It’s scattered with a couple of holes where the fabric had been singed by fire and is marred with the ghost of fingerprint soot stains that never seem to entirely wash out. Seeing it on her reminds Gendry that she’s his woman made of steel, but just as soft and pliable as the épée he forged whilst wearing that shirt. 

 

“You’ve completely corrupted me now, Professor Baratheon. Not only have you debauched me, but you’ve also made me turn against my house. If we run into my father, he’ll disown me for wearing this,” Arya quips, as she picks at the shirt. 

 

He grins widely, and can’t help the stirring in his loins in response to her calling him Professor Baratheon. “If we run into your father, we have bigger problems than what you’re wearing.” 

 

Arya rolls her eyes and turns to retrieve her black leather book bag she uses as a purse. “He doesn’t know what you look like.” 

 

“Still. I’m an older man out escorting his daughter.” It’s something he’s thought often about, what reaction to expect when Arya’s family eventually learns about their relationship. They haven’t discussed whether they’ll tell them the bit about Gendry being her former professor. The age difference will be a dead giveaway, however. He looks handsome and youthful for a man on the verge of thirty-two, but he still doesn’t look nearly as young as the boys he assumes her parents would prefer her to be dating instead. 

 

She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly and makes way to the door. “My father is ten years older than my mum, I don’t think he has a leg to stand on in that argument.” 

 

Gendry’s lips purse to form an impressed expression while nodding his head and lifting his brows as he follows her out into the hallway, feeling a bit more hopeful for when the time comes. He collects his keys while Arya shoves her sockless feet into her boots; her hair an absolute mess still from their frenzied late night coupling. Before they head out the door, he pulls her into an embrace and softly kisses her. The baby blue of the shirt enhances the flecks of blue and green in her grey eyes. 

 

“You’re beautiful,” he tells her and smiles at how quickly that brightens her face. 

 

••  

 

Gendry pulls into a space in the car park of the nearest NHS urgent care, and after turning off the ignition, takes his seat belt off as she does the same. Arya glances at him with a questioning look. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

His face mirrors her expression. “Taking my seat belt off?”

 

“Where you going?” 

 

“ _With you_.” He looks and sounds almost offended. 

 

“You don’t have to do that.” Arya shakes her head at him. 

 

“Well, I want to. I’m responsible, aren’t I? And I was going to pay the bill anyway.” 

 

“ _Gendry_ ,” she admonishes him. 

 

He shrugs his shoulders out of confusion and asks, “What?” 

 

She stares at him, contemplatively with a slightly growing smile. Finally, she caves. She reaches for her door handle before he has a chance to stop her. As she climbs out of the car, he does the same while she asks, “Are you trying to be my sugar daddy?” 

 

“I like to _provide_ and want to take care of you. It’s in my nature. Just let me.” Gendry can’t help but sound slightly flustered. 

 

“Just _let you_?” Her tone is challenging, and it reminds him that she’s still in a lot of pain and he ought not to push his luck with her today.

 

He reaches for her hand to lace their fingers together as they walk toward the entrance. 

 

“ _Please_ ,” Gendry emphasizes as he opens the door for her. Arya’s smirk signals her acceptance. 

 

••

 

While waiting for her to come back from being seen, he’s kept busy on his phone in the waiting room, looking at a photo he sneakily took of Arya without her knowledge. It was taken yesterday after their lunch date at a nice Italian restaurant. After walking out together, she had realized she had forgotten her take away box on the table and rushed back in to get it before he had a chance to offer to do the same. When she walked out again, he was standing over on the curb, searching for their Uber when his eyes caught sight of her. He instantly swiped out of the app to open his camera, which he had to find first since he rarely uses it, and took a photo of her unawares. She was gorgeous, and he found himself overcome with exuberance and pride, knowing she is his. Which he made her confirm in the hallway pressed against the glass of his display case before they left for their late lunch. 

 

“Time to pay up, Baratheon.” 

 

He finds Arya suddenly standing in front of him, holding a bag of prescriptions and a discharge note.

 

“Hello, love, what’s the verdict?” Gendry puts the screen to sleep and rises from out of his seat. 

 

“UTI. And I’m pregnant.” 

 

“ _Stark._ ” 

 

“I couldn’t resist. Didn’t you say that your uncles claim the ‘seed’ in your family is ‘strong’?" Arya uses air quotes. 

 

“It’s only been _three_ bloody days, and I’ve _never_ gotten anyone-”

 

“That’s good to know. Let’s go so I can take these meds,” Arya interrupts him with a grin. 

 

He releases a hearty exhale as they walk up to the counter. She stands close to him, almost possessively while he hands his card over to the pretty receptionist, and he finds he loves the normalcy of this moment. Right now, he’s not her professor, and she isn’t his student. Instead, he’s her boyfriend paying the bill and buying her medication at urgent care, and she’s his girlfriend, whom he plans to pamper for the rest of the day. And Gendry wants to stay in this bubble for as long as possible before Monday morning comes and they both find themselves back in his classroom where he’ll be forced to pretend that he doesn’t love her and doesn’t know the sounds she makes when she comes apart in his arms. 

 

Last night they discussed their upcoming schedules for the following week, and disappointingly found that midterm exams are going to be keeping them both reasonably busy throughout the day. Which means no secret lunch dates at Arya’s flat since she lives closer to uni, and limited texting. But he insisted that she spend every night with him at his flat. Because now after having her, and especially after they’ve turned their affair, that was always steeped heavily in their feelings for one another, into a legitimate relationship, there’s not a chance in hell Gendry can survive a full week without talking to her in person, kissing her, touching her, and falling asleep next to her. After pouring his heart out, nearly begging that she come home to him every night for the next week, she pounced on him as the she-wolf Arya is, which lead to a rigorous and lengthy lovemaking session that left them both utterly spent and is the culprit for why they are currently at urgent care. 

 

As they head out and walk back to his car, Arya loops her arm around his. “What were you staring so intensely at when I walked up?” 

 

“A photo of a gorgeous woman.”

 

“ _Who_?” Arya hotly demands.

 

“You, you muppet.” An embarrassed smile creeps over her face. “A photo that _I_ took,” he clarifies. 

 

“When?!” she asks with as much enthusiasm as she can spare at the moment, considering she hasn’t taken her prescriptions yet.

 

“You’re not the only one capable of taking sneaky pics,” Gendry tells her while opening her car door.

 

After dropping into the driver seat, he informs her, “I texted it to you.” He then passes his phone over to her since it was already in his hand. As he takes off to Tesco to fetch her a jug of cranberry juice, Arya unlocks his phone with his passcode. The fact that she even knows what it is extraordinary in and of itself because he’s never felt inclined or trusted anyone enough to share that, or any other passwords for that matter. He considers himself to be a private person and has been accused in the past by former girlfriends that he never allows himself to be vulnerable enough to let them in. That doesn’t seem to be a problem this time around.

 

“That’s a bloody good photo of me. Nice one, babe,” Arya tells him with a grin as she pinches her fingers out on the screen to zoom in. 

Gendry smiles at hearing her call him babe and navigates his way to the grocer’s as quickly as possible so she can have something to drink to take her meds. Ever since they began texting, he’s always asked her to send him selfies. Before meeting Arya, he’s never been motivated to use the camera app on his phone other than to take photos of his creations from the forge, but he finds his little wolf to be the only other muse capable of inspiring him to utilize it. And after seeing her Instagram, it makes him want to have one of his own filled with photos of her and the two of them together.

“You fucking prat,” Arya laughs as she slaps his left arm halfheartedly, and shoves the phone in his face for reference to point out the other text he sent while she was gone. 

 

“It’s true,” he tells her somberly. 

 

“That you’re sorry or that you broke your new favourite toy?”

 

“Both.”

 

She rolls her eyes and smiles at his phone.

 

“Mind if I post this?” 

 

“The broken fanny meme?”

 

Arya reaches over to pinch the sensitive skin of his inner elbow, making him holler in pain, and laugh. 

 

“What’s the caption gonna be?” he asks, turning into the car park of the grocer’s. 

 

“My boyfriend preemptively took me out to a lovely lunch before giving me a UTI.”

 

“Oh, for fuck sake.” 

 

Twenty minutes later, Gendry returns to the car with a couple of grocery bags in hand. He opens the back seat to drop them onto the floorboard before retrieving one of two jugs of cranberry juice. After settling in behind the steering wheel, he hands Arya the jug, which prompts her to drop her phone into her lap to take it from him immediately. 

 

“Right then. I’ve gotten you loads of cranberry juice, a stack of wet wipes, your favourite sea salt and vinegar crisps, and black iced coffee, for your black heart, you fuckin’ heathen,” Gendry announces.

 

“Don’t slag it off until you’ve tried it,” she tells him, before quickly opening the cap to the heavy bottle and guzzling as much of the room temperature juice as she can until two faint waterfalls of pink droplets escape out of the corners of her mouth and down her chin. She hands the jug back to him to wipe the back of her hand across her mouth before hurriedly tearing open her prescription bottles. After taking her antibiotic and pain reliever, Gendy asks, “Anything else my love needs before we head back home?” 

 

Maybe the cranberry juice and meds are working already, though that seems unlikely. The reason he wonders is that she’s smiling over at him with one of Gendry's favourite soft expressions of hers, which hasn’t made an appearance yet this morning.

 

“Did you think of somewhere else we need to go?” he asks, pulling out of the car park. 

 

“You said ‘before we head back home.’” Approaching a stoplight, he turns to look at her and sees eyes shining back at him with adore and gratitude. Before the light turns green again, he steals a kiss from her cranberry stained lips. 

 

••

 

When they return to his flat, Arya dances in place, holding her crotch with both hands in desperate need to use the loo again after the amount of juice she drank on the ride back. He hurries as quickly as he can to unlock the door, and as soon as knob turns, she immediately brushes past him, knocking the door wide open and leaves him standing at the threshold in a hurry to go relieve her irritated, overactive bladder. Gendry carries the shopping bags in and places them on the breakfast bar before taking everything out and putting the iced coffee and jugs of cranberry juice into the fridge. When she comes back out, a glass of cranberry juice with cubes of ice is waiting for her on the counter. 

 

“Aww,” she coos while looking at the glass set out for her. Arya picks it up and opens the fridge to retrieve one of the jugs, taking both back with her into his room, making him snort in laughter as he follows behind.

 

Arya keeps the Man City shirt on, but ditches the shorts with nothing underneath before sliding back under the sheets of his unmade bed after placing her glass, jug and prescription bottles on his nightstand. He follows her lead, shucking his jeans off but keeping his shirt on. She interrupts him before he gets into bed with her.

 

“Excuse me, sir, why are you wearing a shirt?” she asks with incredulity. 

 

He looks down at himself, then at her. “Because you are?” 

 

“I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m in a great deal of pain, and having a sexy man laying starkers in bed next to me would make me feel loads better.” 

 

Gendry gives her a flirtatious grin as he begins pulling the offensive shirt off. He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of the way Arya’s eyes trail appreciatively with hunger over the expanse of his hard earned muscles. 

 

“Isn’t that how you ended up in this predicament in the first place?”

 

“Shut your gob and come cuddle me.” 

 

“Yes, ma’am.” He lifts and slides under the sheet to prop himself against a stack of pillows so she can lay back against his chest. Gendry wraps his arms around her, and his hands pull up her shirt to rest against her lower stomach above her brown curls. 

 

“S’alright?” he asks, not knowing for sure whether his hands are actually providing any sort of comfort or if he’s deluding himself. He’s going off of instincts. She nods her head under his chin and gives a gentle sigh before closing her eyes. They lay there in silence while Gendry absently rubs his cheek against her hair. His thumbs idly swipe up and down the skin of her belly.

 

“I thought you’re from Nottingham. Shouldn’t you be supporting Nottingham Forrest?” Arya’s voice cracks faintly from being lured back to sleep already. 

 

“My mum was from Manchester, and Man City was her team. So it became my team.” He looks down and sees her sweet smile. 

 

“What is she like? Tell me about her.” Arya snuggles back deeper into his arms. 

 

He hesitates for a moment. “She was wonderful. One of the best mums you could ever ask for.”

 

Arya stiffens slightly under his hold. “Was? Is she no longer with us?” 

 

“No. Lost her to cancer when I was…” He narrows his eyes into the distance, trying to do the math. “Twenty-three.” 

 

Her hand reaches for Gendry's on her stomach and gently glides her fingertips across the back of his hand, soothingly. 

 

“I’m so sorry, love. That’s completely unfair to have lost both parents so young. I couldn’t imagine going through that.”

 

Gendry drops kisses into the top of her messy hair. “Thank you.” After a moment, he continues. “We lived in a council estate, just the two of us. There were a few times when we were on the dole, but no matter what, she always did what she could to make my birthday and Christmas special. Even on a barmaid’s wages. She took me to my first match on my tenth birthday. I remember feeling embarrassed for being there with my mum and not my dad like the other kids I saw there. But she ended up being just as passionate about the game, if not more so, screaming louder than all the blokes around us. She was like that at every match,” he chuckles lightly at the memory.

 

Arya turns her body to lay her smiling cheek against his warm pec. “She sounds like a wonderful woman. What was her name?” 

 

“Tara.” He hasn’t spoken her name aloud in such a long time that it almost feels foreign on his lips. 

 

“Tara,” she repeats, testing the name. “Do you think she would have liked me?” She’s playing anxiously with a strand of hair, twirling it around her finger. Gendry leans all the way back to lay flat, bringing her down along with him. She cuddles close into his side with a hand laid across his heart. Moments before they drift back into sleep, he wraps his arm around her waist to pull her in tight and whispers, “She would have ate you up.” 

 

He falls back to sleep with the feeling of Arya’s smile against his chest. 

 

••

   

Arya wakes at least three times during their long Sunday lie in to relieve herself. Each time before crawling back into bed, she chugs cranberry juice straight from the jug and takes a urinary pain reliever, and every time without fail Gendry sleepily asks if there’s anything he can do for her. The answer is always the same: a silent shake of her head accompanied with a smile before she crawls back in and he envelopes her back into the warmth of his arms and solid chest. The fourth time she wakes, he opens his eyes from the bed and finds her standing in front of the French doors in the corner of his room that is nearly disguised by the drapes that hang from the ceiling to floor in gauzy white linen. They’re roughly opaque to allow sunlight to shine through without the need for blinds. She’s wearing her shorts again, but this time it’s paired with his discarded white t-shirt he wore earlier this morning. Her hands push the drapes aside to discover there is an empty balcony she didn’t know about. Arya begins to smile as she unlocks and opens the doors to allow a breeze in, and steps out. 

 

Gendry rubs both hands down his face to wake himself up, and quickly steps out of bed and throws on another shirt with a pair of black boxer briefs before joining her. When he walks through the opened doors into the spacious balcony under the overcast sky, he finds his muse leaning against the iron railing.

 

“Look at this balcony! It’s lovely out here,” she exclaims, looking around and staring out at the wooded park and small pond located adjacent from his building. It’s calm and peaceful at this corner of the street; the only minor interruptions being the distant sounds of traffic and city life. The balcony itself is reasonably large, but void of a single item or decoration, unlike several of his neighbours. 

 

“I would sit out here all the time if I were you. I wish we had a balcony at our flat.” The excitement in her voice causes him to start taking mental notes.

 

“Yeah? Never really gave it much thought before; didn’t know what to do with it. What would you suggest?” Gendry leans against her back, resting his hands on the railing on either side of her with muscular arms spread wide. Her smooth leg lifts back to rub her calf down his.

 

“Oh, there’s _loads_ you could do. You could fit a day bed out here, hang lanterns or maybe string lights. Definitely plants, lots of pillows.”

 

“A day bed? Would you actually sleep out here?” he asks with delighted surprise. 

 

“Definitely,” Arya nods enthusiastically. “I grew up in a big house in Sheffield. We had a lot of land next to the woods. And I’d always sneak out and sleep outside with my brothers or with my girl Nymeria. I miss those days,” she tells him wistfully.

 

He doesn’t need much convincing when it comes to her. Mind made up; he asks, “Could you help me sketch out some ideas?”

 

Arya turns her head slightly over her shoulder to look at him. “Seriously?”

 

Gendry nudges her hair away from her neck with his nose so he can plant a kiss under her ear. “Yeah. You want a balcony, and I have one. Let’s make it yours,” he answers simply, not expecting the reaction it would entice. Hearing his thoughtful offer causes Arya to push her ass back into him and slide down until his member wakes beneath her cheeks. He immediately grabs her hips with a groan to still her.

 

”Don’t do that,” he mutters cautiously under his breath. 

 

”Why not?” She does it again. He moans regretfully.

 

”Because you're not well. And we have to refrain,” Gendry tries reminding both of them. 

 

”Refrain from what?” Arya questions with an innocent lilt to her voice, and leans down on her forearms against the railing to arch her back and press her ass more firmly into his growing bulge. He instinctively pushes into her in return and rests both hands low on her back until they dip into the curve of her spine, despite his earlier protest.

 

”You must be feeling better?” Gendry asks, surprised.

 

”Mmm, those pain relievers helped.” 

 

”We still can't have sex though, you’re not healed yet,” he informs her with a strained voice while her plump cheeks continue to tease him through the fabric of her thin shorts.

 

”We’re not having sex.” Arya slowly grinds her ass up and down his hard length while in full view for all to see. They're both clothed, but there is nothing to hide behind in terms of furniture or plants to shield them from his neighbours' balconies or anyone on the street. Thankfully no one is out on their terrace at the moment or having a stroll in the adjacent park, probably due to the weather changing. He can smell rain coming. 

 

He attempts to stop her hips, but he’s connected solidly against her as though they’re magnetized. ”Arya, we can't-” he strangles out before she interrupts him again.

 

“We’re not,” she nearly purrs and continues her maddeningly slow assault of backing against Gendry’s throbbing, hard cock. He begins to press against her on the next pass her gyrating hips make. Understanding now what she intends to do, he steps closer until the thick outline of his erection is nestled between her ass. Her shorts have risen up; the fabric disappearing between her cheeks. It makes the visual of dry fucking her even more stimulating. 

 

Gendry bites his bottom lip to quell making any noise as she rises on her toes to lengthen her thin, toned legs, so she can drag her ass against him from tip to balls. She repeats the action at a stupefying pace, making his eyes drowsy with pleasure. He breathes hard through his nose, still determined not to make a sound; teeth digging deeper into his full bottom lip. Now that she’s standing on her toes, his straining thickness makes contact with the back of Arya’s covered centre. Breathy sounds escape her as she leans over the railing now. The new angle causes euphoria to flood his veins and warmth to pool low in his tightening belly. 

 

The clouds that have been hovering overhead begin to open, covering them in a soft drizzle, and chilling their flushed faces. He presses himself against her more firmly and pushes his hands down harder where her lower back meets the curve of flesh currently driving him mad. A soft moan finally escapes his lips and hearing it seems to provoke her. The pace and firmness in which she presses herself back against him shows her determination in fulfilling his release. Eyes closed, Gendry’s hips softly thrust against her now rapidly bouncing hips. Sounds of rustling fabric and soft panting breaths is all they can hear and focus on over the sounds of a roaring ambulance in the distance. Within a few short moments, she has him leaning a little further over her arched back with one hand gripping the railing and the other digging into her hips beneath the band of her shorts. After one last purposeful thrust, Arya makes him come into his boxers, soaking the fabric on a strangled groan of her name. 

 

She slowly turns around to face him as he heaves a euphoric sigh before placing a kiss against his lips. She reaches her hand up to drag her finger across the indention his teeth left behind on his bottom lip. Alluring grey eyes stare up at him as Arya earnestly tells him, “Thank you. For everything.” 

 

Before he has a chance to respond, she interrupts him with a press of her finger and says, “I have to use the loo.” And scurries off around him and disappears back inside, making him laugh joyfully, then turn around to follow her.

 

Later, when she opens the door, Gendry is waiting on the other side and with a grin, pushes her gently back inside to join him for a shower.

 

••

 

The room is dim, save for the burgeoning sunlight that has begun to illuminate the sky, indicating dawn has arrived. His alarm isn't set to go off for another hour, yet here they lay staring at one another with the sheets covering their heads. Neither seems to want their weekend together to end, as evidenced by the cocoon they’ve created in his bed. As if reading his mind, Arya whispers encouragingly to him, “We’ll have plenty more weekends together. And nights. And mornings.”

 

Gendry smiles at the reminder, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Her soft features harden for a split second. ”Things aren’t going to be weird now in class, are they?” Her voice cracks, misconstruing his apprehension. 

 

”No, ‘course not.” The hand on her lower back pulls her closer towards him. Gendry sighs, feeling silly for the anxious jealousy that has seeped into the pit of his stomach ever since waking. ”I’m just impatient already, s’all. Want the world to know we’re together, so we don’t have to hide. And I want people to know you're taken. Especially randy fuckwits at school. I don’t want any of them thinking they might have a chance with you.” 

 

His cheeks feel inflamed out of embarrassment. Before taking her virginity, Gendry already had to keep his jealousy in check, with no claim or right to back it up. But now after she’s shared her heart and body with him, his envy is simmering just below a boil at the mere thought of returning to work and potentially having to witness for the next month and a half various male students attempt to flirt and get off with his woman. 

 

Arya’s face contorts into a playful, flabbergasted expression. “Are you _seriously_ worried that some uni fuckboy has a remote chance of successfully chatting me up? When I have  _you_?”

 

That manages to make him grin, but he avoids her eyes all the same. She snuggles in closer to drape her leg over his hip and slides her fingertips down his cheek to grasp his scruffy jaw, forcing him to look at her. The unadulterated look of love and devotion that Gendry sees in her eyes makes his breath catch in his throat. 

 

“I’m _yours_ , Gendry. And you’re _mine_. And no boy from uni, or man for that matter, can do anything to change that. And if Professor Titties or any other slag think she’s clever enough to _try_ to take you away from me will find themselves sorely mistaken. Understood?” 

 

Being on the receiving end of Arya’s fiercely passionate loyalty and jealousy fills him with rapturous jouissance. His arm drags her in closer so he can devour her lips appreciatively in response, and runs his hands over her naked, warm skin. They’re still refraining from having sex, in spite of Arya’s frequent pleas last night that she feels much better after a single day of antibiotics, but Gendry hasn’t and won’t cave since he knows better and wants her fully healed first. Hiding from the world that awaits them underneath the sheet, they continue mapping each other’s skin with their hands; committing swaths of defined muscle and voluptuous curves to their memory in order to sate them both throughout the day until she returns this evening, where she rightfully belongs.

 

••

 

Arya joins him in front of the sink to brush her teeth after drinking her morning iced coffee. But not until downing an entire glass of cranberry juice first, at his insistence. When she strolls in, Gendry is in the midst of combing his hair and applying a small dab of cologne behind each ear. He’s wearing a button down and slacks with a tie hanging loosely around his neck, while she stands naked underneath one of his shirts that is massive on her. After rinsing her mouth out, she turns to tug on his tie wordlessly, making him face her and proceeds to fold it into a Windsor knot. He watches her, fascinated by the precision and quickness she ties it, showing she’s had plenty of practice. When she finishes, Arya straightens the tie, then drags her palms down his chest to reach up on her toes and rubs the side of her face against his neck, inhaling deeply. She nuzzles her face and neck against his, prompting him to wrap his arms around her, bringing her flush against him in a hug while she loops her arms around his shoulders. 

 

As she lowers herself back down on her feet, she whispers before opening her eyes, “You smell so _fucking_  good.” 

 

He smiles down at her. “And now, you smell just like me.” 

 

“Good,” Arya says pointedly with mischievously raised eyebrows and a grin, before walking out to finish getting dressed. It occurs to him that she rubbed herself against him on purpose to carry his scent on her throughout the day, which inflates his ego and makes him smile brightly at his reflection in the mirror. 

 

Before they head out, Arya stands in front of him with her school book bag looped over her shoulders, along with her black leather book bag. She’s leaving her small overnight bag of toiletries and a spare change of clothes here, to Gendry’s delight. 

 

“You have your meds?” he double checks. He also prepared a thermos of cranberry juice for her to take with her.

 

She nods her head and reaches up to cup his face and gently kiss him. Their lips linger for a few seconds longer, before pushing their foreheads together in a unified sigh. 

 

“I’ll see you soon, Professor.”

 

“Gonna ace this exam?”

 

Arya makes a flippant noise. “Of course. I’m shagging the teacher.” 

 

“That doesn’t necessarily mean you’re going to get a passing grade.”

 

“Oi!” She exclaims good-naturedly. 

 

Before opening the door for her, Gendry confirms, “See you back here at seven?”

 

The way her eyes gleam with elation when she answers, “Yes, love,” makes him feel like he finally found that lost chunk of his heart he’s been aimlessly searching for his whole life, but never knew was missing.

 

••

 

Gendry looks up from his sketchpad and stares across the auditorium classroom from his desk, checking the progression being made by the rows of students bowed heads as they work diligently on answering his midterm exam. Students were allowed to pick up their writing utensils an hour ago, but the first out of seventy-eight students is done already and has spent the last twenty minutes double checking their answers. They have always finished Gendry’s exams and quizzes first before the rest of the class, which used to infuriate him because he prides himself on his tricky exam questions. But infuriation quickly turned into admiration months ago for the student who is now standing from their desk with book bag slung over their shoulder, walking down the aisle to turn in their completed exam. 

 

The same student he woke up next to this morning, and who whispered _I love you_ into his ear. 

 

He tries to temper the smile that threatens to grow on his face when their eyes meet as she approaches his desk. When she places her exam into a tray, Gendry realizes his sketchbook is wide open and goes to close it, but it’s for nought since she already saw the preliminary graphite drawings of his balcony. With her back turned to the rest of the class, Arya gives him a wide grin and wink before turning to silently leave. He hopes he isn’t blushing. 

 

A few minutes later, Gendry’s phone vibrates in the top drawer of his desk, and he slides it open to check it. 

 

He has to catch himself from audibly or visually reacting to her text before another student walks up to ask for clarification on a question. 

••

“Alright?”

“Alright?”

The lab technician nods in response before walking over to stoke the fire in the forge. Due to midterms, most students are out studying, but Podrick is working late in the smithy during open lab. He’s a wee bit behind on his midterm assignment that is due on Thursday for Classic Metalwork, thanks to the enormous amount of time he’s been spending in the company of one drop dead gorgeous redhead by the name of-

“You still after Arya?” 

Podrick looks confused for a moment, surprised by the question that seemingly came out of nowhere. 

“Huh? Uh, well-” he begins to stammer, but the lab tech interrupts him before looking around the vast room to make sure there are no prying ears around. Which Podrick finds humorous, considering they’re the only two people in the entire smithy. 

“If I were you, I’d move on, mate,” he warns him. 

Still thoroughly confused, Podrick lowers his hammer and asks, “What are you on about?”

“Arya. You know, Arya Stark-”

“Yeah, I know who she is. What are you on about?”

The lab tech steps away from the forge and walks over to lean heavily against Podrick’s workstation. He lowers his voice unnecessarily and continues to scan his eyes around the room. 

“I just moved into this new building, right? And I’m pretty sure I saw her this morning walking out of  _Professor Baratheon’s flat_ ,” he whispers conspiringly.

“ _What?!_  No-”

“I swear it.” The lab tech’s eyes bulge wide, trying to convince Podrick. “Over the weekend, I kept hearing some bird screaming  _Gendry! Gendry!_ ” he surmises confidently, as though that alone is enough evidence. 

Podrick looks at him disbelieving. “Do you  _know_  that he lives there or are you just guessing?”

That catches the lab tech off guard at first, but then he doubles down. “How many blokes are walking around with the name Gendry, eh? It’s gotta be his flat, c’mon.”

Podrick shakes his head and turns towards the forge to reheat his metal. “Well, good for him. But whoever he’s shagging, it’s not Arya. She was at home with me and Sansa last night,” Podrick lies to cover for her.

“Sansa? Who’s that?”

“Arya’s sister.” 

“Are you trying to have a go at pulling  _both_  of them now? Fuckin’ hell, I know your cock has some kind of reputation and all, but-”

“No! I’m dating Sansa,” Podrick explains, getting irritated. “I was at their flat last night. Arya was there the whole time. You didn’t see her this morning, mate,” he insists. 

If Podrick didn’t know better, he could have sworn he saw a disappointed look come over the lab tech’s face. 

“Oh. Well, alright, then. Hey, don’t…mention I said anything,” the lab tech nervously asks. Podrick nods solemnly in promise. As soon as the tech leaves to go have a smoke, Podrick digs his phone out of his back pocket and hastily begins to send a text.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello loves!!! This chapter has more plot developments and a smidge of smut to whet the appetite while Arya heals from her UTI!
> 
> ••-----------------------------------------••
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_**Monday, 29 April 2019** _

 

“You were so sweet-” Arya stops mid-sentence to lay a kiss atop the hard, protruding bulge through his slacks. Gendry’s breathing deepens as he stands above her whilst she rests on her denim clad knees against the hardwood floor in his living room.

 

“-to take care of me,” she finishes, fingers now peeling his slacks open. He reaches down to brush away strands of stray hair that have fallen into her face and tucks it behind her ear. His hand stays to wrap around the back of her head, fingers overlapping the nape of her neck. She can hear him swallow as her small hand frees his warm, substantial thickness out of his boxers. 

 

“You don’t have to,” Gendry tells her in a voice gruff with apparent want, while his hand makes no motion to move away. She finds it adorably sexy that he’s even attempting to be a gentleman right now, especially after he had her pinned against the wall of the foyer as soon as she arrived moments ago. The glistening salty droplet now cascading down the slope of the head makes Gendry’s insistence that she needn’t relieve him sound weaker. She raises her eyes to meet his with a lascivious grin.

 

Arya has been aching for him ever since she began to feel better late Sunday afternoon. And his continuous care and doting behaviour sent her libido soaring to new heights. Having gone from spending an exorbitant amount of time together, to barely seeing one another or communicating today, has left them both desperate for each other. Arya knows she has to refrain from sex until her antibiotics run out, which is in two days. She hopes to convince Gendry to at least let her dry fuck him later with knickers on. But first, she wants to show her appreciation for him taking such good care of her yesterday. The precious free time she had in between classes and quick study sessions was spent fantasizing about coming home to her boyfriend and sinking down onto her knees for him in gratitude. Those daydreams and mental snapshots of their weekend together helped her get through a gruelling day of exams. 

 

She gently slides her tongue up to collect the droplet, then parts her lips further to suck him into her mouth, forcing a whimper from above. His fingers twist and pull on her hair a bit harder, which causes a moan to reverberate against his cock. Arya’s phone dings with a text alert. They both ignore it. Her head begins to bob slowly, taking more of his length in. He curses under his breath while his chest rises and falls deeply, eyes staring down in wonderment. Her phone dings again. 

 

And again. 

 

“What in the bloody _fuck-_ ” Arya complains after removing his hard, wet flesh from her mouth, much to Gendry’s disappointment. As she grabs him by the hips to pull herself back to standing, he helps her up despite complaining, “ _No!_ No, it can wait, right?  _Right_?” He releases a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes after she gives him a sardonic smirk and turns on her heel to retrieve her phone from her book bag tossed on a chair. Upon digging it out, her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. 

 

 

“Fucking hell,” she mumbles before quickly texting back, eyebrows furrowed. Gendry’s immediate concern is palpable, filling the atmosphere and mixing with hers, making Arya’s gut twist uncomfortably. 

 

“What is it?” He walks over to her while stuffing himself back into his slacks and zipping up. 

“It’s Pod. He says there’s an emergency and he needs to talk to me in person tonight.” She can’t help the slight tremor in her voice.

“Is Sansa alright?” Gendry asks, clearly perturbed. 

“I don’t know, he didn’t say. I just asked,” Arya explains, feeling buoyed for a brief moment by his instant worry for her sister. 

He steps up next to her to look down at the phone in her hands and squeezes her shoulder. Another text comes through.

 

 

“Don’t keep him waiting, you should go,” Gendry insists. 

 

“You sure you don't mind?” Her thumb hesitates to begin typing back. 

 

”’Course not, it's obviously important, whatever it is.” There’s still a hint of a flush on his neck from arousal, but his voice and eyes are sincere. 

 

She leans up to give him a quick kiss before texting Pod back, telling him to meet her at a pub that is located between Gendry’s place and uni. Arya throws her phone back into her book bag and slings it over her shoulder. She reaches up to grasp his scruffy chin, forcing him to lean down and meet her lips. After giving him a firm kiss, she promises him, ”I’ll be back soon, and we’ll pick up where we left off.” With a spin, she marches out the door to the sound of him groaning and demanding she come back soon. 

 

••

 

Arya gets out of her car, eyes scanning for Podrick’s vehicle. After spotting it, she strides across the street and enters the pub. It doesn't take long before she finds him in the corner of a booth tucked away from the rowdiness surrounding the bar. A football match is on the telly, drawing the attention of all patrons. When she approaches, she finds not only a gin and tonic waiting for her but also a pleasant, if not a tad anxious and a smidge terrified, smile on his face. Her eyes dart back and forth between the drink and Podrick’s expression, surmising that whatever important news he has to share is _about her_. 

 

Dread gnaws at Arya’s gut, as her intuition informs her that perhaps she and Gendry have finally been caught. Because she isn’t ignorant; she knows they were reckless over the weekend with the number of times they went out in public together. Not to mention the countless kisses and hugs shared while waiting at busy intersections to cross streets, or how their hands always sought one another out while browsing through bookstores after sharing a meal. And despite knowing better, she gladly threw all caution to the wind every time Gendry would lean down to kiss her; and every time her lips and arms would respond automatically in kind, without a second thought spared on their surroundings or audience. Arya remembers walking into class early this morning thinking to herself how lucky they had been not to run into anyone they know over the entire weekend. Apparently, their luck must have been a farce judging by Podrick’s face. 

 

She slides into the other side of the booth and proceeds to throw the thin straw out of her drink and onto the table, before picking it up and taking a long swig. The alcohol currently warming her throat and oesophagus tells Arya that he ordered her a double, which isn't a good sign. She places the glass back down onto the table a bit harder than necessary, ready to rip this metaphorical bandage off, and asks him, “Right, go on then. What is it?” 

 

Podrick has a hard time meeting her eyes as his hands fidget on the surface of the table, playing with a balled up napkin. “I was in the smithy tonight, and it was just me and the lab tech. The one with the weird nick name- _what is it_?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I know who you’re talking about,” Arya rushes him along.

 

“Anyway, he was telling me I ought to move on from… _you_ ,” he begins nervously, now shredding the napkin in his hands. 

 

That catches her off guard, assuming they were long past this. “Yeah?” Arya urges him to continue, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and worry.

 

“Well, he, uh-” Podrick clears his throat and suddenly finds himself parched, requiring a sip of his lager. 

 

“ _Ohmygod_ ,” Arya mutters quickly under her breath and lightly bangs the back of her head against the booth. She’s nearly jumping out of her skin in anticipation as her blunt fingernails claw into the edges of the wooden table. After swallowing, he hurriedly places the pint back down and leans forward to rest on his elbows so she can still hear him when he lowers the volume of his voice. Arya huddles closer by pressing herself against the edge of the table to meet him halfway, and watches as his eyes glance over her shoulder, seemingly on the lookout for anyone recognizable. Podrick then finally drops the bombshell on her. “He said he thought he saw you coming out of Professor Baratheon’s flat this morning.”

 

Arya’s eyes widen; her raised eyebrows frozen in place. Out of all the scenarios she envisioned, this was absolutely not one of them. Her lips struggle to form the question, but Podrick rushes to answer. “Said he just moved in down the hall recently. Heard some bird over the weekend calling out the professor’s name.” Podrick’s cheeks turn a vibrant shade of red while the colour has drained out of Arya’s momentarily. Her heart is racing, yet her skin feels cold as it hits her that the precious bubble she created with Gendry just days ago has collapsed already. Mind overwhelmed by a million different questions at once, she shakes her head to clear it a couple of times, face screwed up in disbelief. 

 

“How is that-but I didn’t-” she attempts to deny the claim, but one look at Podrick’s amiable and sympathetic expression tells her she’s wasting her time because he already knows it’s true. 

 

“I told him you were home all night with Sansa and me, that he couldn’t have seen you this morning,” he assures her with genuine honesty.  

 

Shaken by his loyalty and at the revelation that he’s aware of her relationship with their professor, Arya stares into Podrick’s solicitous chocolate brown eyes. And in this brief silent moment, they both acknowledge with their eyes this juggernaut of a secret. She breaks eye contact first and takes a deep breath, forcing out a sigh signalling defeat. After picking her drink back up and taking another hearty sip, her face rearranges into an expression of stoic acceptance. 

 

“How long have you known?” she asks quietly, staring down at her now half empty glass that she can’t stop fidgeting with. 

 

A diffident smile grows on Podrick’s face. “Ever since I folded his clothes up last Friday night when we came back to grab my wallet. I saw his cufflinks.” He dips his head, unable to meet her gaze. 

 

Arya winces, eyes pinched closed as she asks with irritation evident in her voice, “ _What_ possessed you to do that?! I thought Sansa had folded his clothes.” 

   

He shrugs his shoulders, embarrassed. “Out of habit, really. Remember when I was a personal assistant to that political special advisor while studying for my A levels?” 

 

“You mean the whoremonger little person who can’t be near an open flame since he’s soaked in alcohol?” Arya picks her drink back up to drain the rest.

 

“He’s actually quite a lovely bloke,” Podrick defends while standing up to go order her another round. 

 

“Yeah, I liked him,” she admits.

 

While he’s gone, Arya chooses to focus for the time being on the fact that Podrick has been aware since Friday that she’s sleeping with Gendry, and hasn’t once said anything about it. And she would have known if he had because Sansa would surely have contacted her by now. She finds herself feeling surprised, impressed, and humbled. And now that her anxiety has been slightly numbed after a stiff drink, she wonders if Podrick could become the confidant that she’s been longing for to talk about Gendry to. 

 

She thanks him as a new highball glass of gin and tonic is placed before her, and the old one taken away before Podrick sits back down and continues his explanation from earlier. “Besides pouring wine, I had to fold clothes that were constantly thrown all over Mr. Lannister’s gaff when he had female guests over, so I wasn’t really thinking the other night when I did it.”

 

“Why did you lie for me?” Arya cuts straight to the point. She can’t help but look at him with scrutinizing eyes. Old habits die hard, but beyond that, she also wants to be certain of a couple things before confessing anything else to him. 

 

That inspires Podrick to meet her steely gaze head-on. His eyes never waver as he explains in a confident yet gentle voice, “‘Cause I love your sister. And I owe you for introducing me to her.” 

 

Her eyes soften immediately, and she can’t help the dopey grin that begins to spread across her face. “ _Awwww_ ,” she coos while leaning her head to the side, still looking at him with an adoring expression unlike ever before. _Now_ she sees it; what Sansa and so many other girls have seen in Podrick Payne. Out of all the lads her older sister has dated, Pod is now by far Arya’s favourite. Sansa’s dating history has been less than stellar; in fact, it’s been downright tragic. And after having witnessed over the last several years the numerous dating pitfalls her sister has stubbled into, and the unnecessary suffering that appeared to accompany dating blokes their age, Arya lost interest and confidence in having any relationships of her own long before leaving home for uni. Until she met Gendry, that is. 

 

Heart filled with gratitude, she puts forth every ounce of feeling behind the words as she tells him, “Thank you for covering for me. I really appreciate it.”

 

“No problem,” Podrick tells her with a nod and soft smile. They both pick up their drinks, but this time silently clink their glasses together before each taking a sip.

 

“So… _Hot Pie_ of all fucking people is living down the bloody hall from Gendry. _And_ he’s heard us have sex,” Arya complains before releasing a frustrated sigh.  

 

Podrick snaps his fingers and says quietly to himself, “ _That’s_ what his nickname is!” before she continues speaking.

 

“That’s absolutely brilliant, and exactly what I had hoped you’d say when I came here tonight,” she claims sarcastically. After a beat, Arya wistfully reveals, “And here I was worried about us running into someone out in public.” A humourless laugh escapes her as her head falls forward into her hands, fingers threading through her hair. She collects two fistfuls and pulls out of frustration.

 

With conviction, he swears to her, “I told him whoever Professor Baratheon is shagging, it isn’t you, Arya.”

 

Podrick means to be helpful, but what he’s unknowingly doing instead is inciting a sudden sharp pang of jealousy within her at hearing those words. It’s utterly ridiculous, considering she knows the truth of the matter. Arya also can’t help the new worry that springs forth in her mind: now that Podrick has killed the idea that it was her who was leaving Gendry’s flat this morning, what if Hot Pie begins spreading word to others who work in the smithy that the handsome young professor is shagging someone else and people automatically assume it’s Professor Titties or any of the other attractive female professors in the History or Art Department? She’s going to have to suffer in silence while hearing her classmates speculate every time she works during open lab whenever Gendry is out of earshot because even though all of her peers in Classic Metalwork are men, they certainly love to gossip. And she’s pretty sure they wouldn’t mind living vicariously through Professor Baratheon’s sex life, vocally and loudly amongst themselves. It hasn’t even happened yet, but the notion alone infuriates her so much so that she stomps her heavy black boots underneath the table before grunting and aggressively picking her drink back up. Despite her discomfort, however, it’s providing her with an idea.

 

As her glass makes contact with the wood again, Arya asks, “How did you know they were his cufflinks, anyway?”

 

A gentle, amused smile envelopes Podrick’s face. “How could I forget those bloody cufflinks! I’d recognize them anywhere.” As Arya huffs in indignation and crosses her arms across her chest, he continues. “I remember that day last term when we were taking Intro to Metalwork, and he came in late from a meeting. He started doing a demo but was wearing his proper clothes, and you kept interrupting him to ask about those fucking cufflinks until eventually, the whole class gathered ‘round so he could show them off and explain how he made them.”

 

Her arms slowly unfold into her lap. “Oh.” A soft utterance is all she’s capable of, feeling slightly embarrassed that her subconscious crush was so blatantly evident halfway through the autumn term last year before she had fully realized it herself.

 

“By the way, you weren’t very discrete this morning, coming in smelling like cologne.” Podrick gives her a friendly raise of his brows while picking up his lager. Arya has enough sense to blush, because _that_ she did do with absolute intention. “What brand is it by the way? Sansa mentioned she liked the smell of his shirt while I was folding-”

 

“You’re not stealing his scent. _Anyway_ -” Arya changes the subject back to more important matters, “I’m assuming this means she doesn’t know since I haven’t heard from my dear, sweet sister.” She begins to squirm restlessly and sits on her hands.

 

“No, she doesn’t know. No one knows,” Podrick responds thoughtfully while lowering his drink back down. 

 

“I’m surprised you’d keep a secret like this from her.” She honestly doesn’t mean for it to sound like a taunt. But she’s defensive of her sister, and even though it’s her secret, Arya doesn’t want to have to worry about this potentially being a red flag that Podrick will later become an untruthful git like Sansa’s former boyfriends.

 

Podrick shakes his head before looking back at her. “I’ve known you far longer though, so my allegiance in this matter is with you. Didn’t think you’d want a lot of people knowing, either.” 

 

Satisfied with his answer, Arya softly smiles at him and sluggishly slides back against her seat in the booth. “Thanks. I don’t know how much I want her to know right now.” He nods in understanding and holds his pint with both hands. 

 

“Do you think Hot Pie believed you?” Arya’s voice sounds small, even to her own ears. 

 

“Yeah, he did,” Podrick promises her. “Even told me to keep it to myself. And he also weirdly looked a bit gutted when I told him it wasn’t you.” 

 

Hearing that alleviates a bit of the tension in her chest and shoulders, but has now awoken a new curiosity: why would Hot Pie be disappointed at hearing it wasn’t her who he saw this morning? Within half a minute, Arya realizes she’s travelled down a rabbit hole when the awkward silence hanging between them catches her attention at last.

 

“Right,” Podrick broaches the pink elephant in the room. He anxiously runs his hand through his slicked back hair that is now long enough to curl below his ears. 

 

“Right,” Arya acknowledges said elephant and readies herself. 

 

“I can’t say I’m _that_ surprised.” Podrick’s voice is jovial as he hides a smile behind his glass. “Makes sense.” He shrugs a shoulder casually as he takes a sip.

 

Despite his teasing tone and friendly demeanour, Arya can’t help but ask a bit curtly, “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

 

“Let’s see,” he begins by gesturing each point with an outstretched finger. “A blacksmith historian who specializes in weapons, and a woman who not only loves swords but has loads of them, and spars competitively. _Of course_ , you’re bloody perfect for each other. Might as well have you two pictured on the front of a fucking romance novel with the subtitle, _‘How to Involve Swords into Your Foreplay.’”_

 

“We’ve only done that once, you twat!” Arya laughs mirthfully, feeling instantly lighthearted, and picks up the discarded straws, napkins, a menu and the remains of what was once a napkin from off the table, and throws it all at him. 

 

“An honest twat! And apparently a psychic!” Podrick laughs in defence as he brings his forearm up to shield his face from the flying debris. After it all lands either in his hair, lap or on his side of the booth, he lowers his arm down, and a shy smile emerges on his face. There’s another beat of silence as they both stare down at the table, either at their drinks or the messages carved into the wood top by drunken patrons of long ago. Arya turns to lean her back into the end of the booth against the wall so she can prop her legs up on the seat. Her hand twirls the ice in her nearly empty second glass. 

 

Podrick surprises her with his next question. “Does he make you happy?” He’s grinning already in response to the soft yet bright expression that appears instantaneously on her face before she has a chance to fathom a reply. “I’ll take that as a resounding yes! Cheers, mate.”

 

Her cheeks are inflamed from a combination of Podrick’s observation and the gin. Arya smiles and silently raises her glass before tilting her head back to gather the last few drops of her drink. 

 

“I was expecting you to give me a lecture.” 

 

“For shagging a professor?”

 

She nods.

 

Podrick squints at her for a moment. “Yeah, it’s a bit mad, innit, but who hasn’t had that fantasy before? I can’t begrudge you of that. You’re living the dream! Apparently, so is he.”

 

Her chest and ears begin to burn with a growing blush that is spreading like wildfire. 

 

“Remember our maths teacher in year twelve?”

 

Arya nods, clearly amused. 

 

He slowly shakes his head at the memory. “The things I wanted to do to her…” he quietly mutters while bringing his lager up to his lips. 

 

A crease forms between Arya’s eyebrows. “It’s more than that, though,” she interrupts him from the reverie he’s quickly drifted off to.

 

“I know,” Podrick’s eyes widen in assurance. “I can tell. You’ve been different over the past month. Happier. Lighter.” The encouraging and cheerful smile on his face, plus two strong G&Ts prompts her to confess.

 

“I’m in love with him, Podrick. We love each other. This isn’t some stupid affair; he’s _mine_. He’s my _boyfriend_. And I intend to keep him that way.” Her voice is earnest, raspy, and full of emotion. Her hand seeks his over the surface of the table and clenches down hard with urgency when her fingers graze the top of his knuckles. 

 

“ _Please help me keep it that way_ ,” Arya pleads as tears begin to gather in the corner of her eyes at the thought of Gendry being ripped away from her before they’ve had a real shot to be together.

 

Podrick’s expression grows sombre as he flips his hand under hers, and squeezes reassuringly. “I promise I’ll do whatever I can to protect you guys.”

 

She gives him a timid smile before she asks, “So…you approve, then?” 

 

Arya wonders why she cares what Podrick thinks, but she finds in this instance that she does. Maybe because there is a growing part of her that wants acceptance of her relationship with Gendry, despite her general outlook on life that it’s her’s to live however she wishes, and to hell with anyone who thinks otherwise. She’s been so caught up in the newness of falling in love that Arya hasn’t spent much time considering anything that comes later, including what reaction to expect from her family to the news of her relationship to her former professor. But right now, while waiting for Podrick’s answer, she finds herself wanting her family and friends to accept their relationship without issue or fuss, and to be as happy for them as they are. 

 

Podrick looks down at the table with a pensive look for a brief moment before answering, and Arya has to fight hard not to let his hesitation sting her. 

 

“Yeah, I do. I mean, I’ve noticed you two have always had chemistry, even when arguing over a debate. And he’s not _that_ much older than us.” Podrick pauses for a moment to scratch his neatly trimmed beard along his jaw and chin. “My only concern would be…has he been with other students before? Is this a pattern of his; does he frequently go on the pull at work?” His voice sounds reluctant to bring the concern up. 

 

Arya fights to take her hand back from Podrick’s, but he holds on tight and demands her eye contact. She stares back defensively, eyes filled with certainty and anger. 

 

“ _No_ , he’s never been with another student before. And _I_ chased him. _I_ started it,” she tells him, indubitably vexed and offended. 

 

In spite of her tone, relief and warmth fill his eyes, and a lopsided grin forms on his stubbled, rounded cheeks. His grip loosens and lets her hand go as he tells her, “Well then, in that case, he had absolutely no choice in the matter. Poor geezer didn’t stand a chance.” 

 

“Oi!” Arya kicks his shin underneath the table, making him holler in pain. 

 

“Are you guys even allowed to date? How many policies have you two broken already?” Podrick asks while leaning down to rub his sore shin. It’s Arya’s turn to scan their surroundings out of paranoia before answering him. 

 

“Technically, no, not with him currently being my professor. But once I’m no longer his student after the end of term, all he has to do is notify HR about our relationship, and we’re free to date.” 

 

Podrick pulls an impressed face. “I didn’t think they’d be so lax, what with it being such a prestigious uni and all.” 

 

Arya replies, “Yeah, me, neither.” 

 

“So does this mean you’re not taking his advanced courses in the autumn?” He sounds slightly disappointed. 

 

Arya nods her head in confirmation. “It’s alright.” She shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly. “It’ll be worth it.” 

 

He turns his head and looks at her intently with a side-eyed stare. “Are you sure?”

 

The glare she sends Podrick causes him to backtrack hastily.

 

“ _Not about it being worth it part_ , but are you sure that you don’t want to take the advanced courses? Y’know, you’re actually quite good in the smithy and-”

 

“You sound like _him_. I’m not at uni to become a blacksmith,” Arya says while rolling her eyes.

 

Podrick drains the rest of his drink and settles the glass against the table. “What are you here to become then?”

 

A faint sarcastic laugh is her first response as she glares broodingly around the pub. 

 

“No one. I’m here against my will because my parents insisted I go to uni. I swear I was born in the wrong time period. I’m meant to fight with a sword in my hand.”

 

She picks up her empty glass and shakes it in Podrick’s direction. He nods and gets up at once.

 

“Another round for the anachronism that is Arya Stark, coming right up.”

 

They give each other a friendly smile before he walks back to the bar. There’s still the issue of circumventing Hot Pie in order to go back and visit Gendry at his flat tonight to contend with. And the conversation with Gendry she has to look forward to, in which she informs him of this upsetting kink in their plans. She checks her phone for the time. Two hours until open lab ends and she assumes Hot Pie heads straight home. There’s still time for her to enact her plan. While searching for nearby shops, two texts from Gendry come through, as though her thoughts alone summoned him.

 

 

Her heart throbs with a mixture of overwhelming adore for this man and trepidation at what his reaction will be when she tells him in person soon. Arya stares down at her phone sadly, worried that despite her plan he’ll insist that she shouldn’t come over until the end of term just to be safe.

“What’s with the puppy dog eyes? What’s happened?” Podrick returns with a third gin and tonic for her.

She shoves her phone in his face as soon as he sits down across from her. 

“Look at that! Read that! See? This isn’t some meaningless affair. I can’t lose him, Podrick.”

His eyes quickly skim over the two texts before she takes her phone back. 

“I’m impressed.” He looks and sounds surprised and in fact, genuinely impressed. “Wow.  _Wow_. And here I thought I was the last gentleman on earth.” 

“I know, right?” Arya begins texting back. For the time being, she isn’t going to tell Gendry anything until she sees him. 

 

 

_Oh, fuck. I drove here,_ Arya thinks to herself. Podrick interrupts her from her thoughts. 

“Should I start cooking Sansa dinner? She always insists on doing the cooking-”

“What?” Arya asks distractedly, whipping her head up from looking down at her phone. “Yes, you should. He’s asking if he should send me an Uber since I’ve been drinking.” 

“Why do you think I only had one beer? I was already planning on driving you home,” Podrick explains as though she already knew that. 

“Oh,…okay. I guess that’s _one_  way for him to find out you know.” She picks up her glass and drinks from the tiny straw this time. A bewildered look crosses his face. 

“I meant home as in  _your_  flat. Surely you can’t-”

 

“Oh yes I can, I already have a plan,” Arya confidently interrupts him. 

Podrick laughs lightly and asks, “Who came up with this plan? You or the gin?” 

“ _Meee_ , now listen,” Arya leans forward and begins rapidly explaining. “There’s a wig shop up the block. You’re going to take me after we leave here, and I’m going to buy a few, and I’ll wear a different wig every time I go over to his flat. Hot Pie won’t be able to tell the difference if he ever sees me. He’ll probably think Gendry just joined Tinder.” Arya already doesn’t like the gossip that this strategy could provoke. She absolutely loathes it. But if it means they get to keep their little bubble intact for a bit longer, she’s willing to endure. 

“Okay,” Podrick concedes, nodding his head and looking down at his hands that are clasped in front of him on the table. “Or? You could tell Sansa so the two of you can freely be together at your flat whenever you want.” 

They stare at one another.

“I like my plan better,” she complains petulantly. 

“I know you do. But it’s mental.” 

“ _I know_ , just-” Arya sputters, then pauses to keep her emotions in check. After taking a deep breath, she slows down and lowers her voice. “I don’t know what Sansa’s reaction will be. I honestly don’t know what to predict. And I can’t risk telling her only for her to go completely mad and tell our parents, all in an effort to ‘protect’ me as my big sister. She’s done it before.” 

Podrick obviously disagrees according to the immediate shaking of his head before she’s even done speaking. “I don’t know anything about that incident, but I can promise you that she wouldn’t, Arya.” 

“I’ve known her far longer than you. She could. And she has.” 

“I’m not the only one who has noticed how much happier you’ve been lately. She’s absolutely  _thrilled_  for you, and keeps telling me how she can’t wait to meet whoever this guy is because he must be truly amazing to capture and keep your attention.” 

A lump forms in her throat. She swallows it down with another sip of her drink, this time without the straw. She lets his words sink in as a gentle wave of intoxication flows through her. 

“Does she really?” Arya whispers. His brilliant wide grin serves as confirmation.

Quietly, she acquiesces. Partly. “I’ll think about it. But tonight, can you take me to his flat? No sense in him wasting quid on an Uber, since he’s going to find out you know anyway.” 

Podrick nods his head. “Of course.” 

She guzzles her drink before texting Gendry back, now in a hurry to leave so they can run to the shop and still beat Hot Pie. 

 

 

After pressing send, she picks up her drink and in two gulps finishes the rest. After the glass hits the table, she tells Podrick, “Right, we’re off then.” Arya’s phone continues to ding with text alerts as they walk out of the pub together and climb into Podrick’s car. 

 

••

 

They made it to the wig shop with fifteen minutes to spare before they closed. Arya walked out with a bag filled with four completely different wigs and Podrick clutching his stomach, still laughing. 

Now, they’re on their way to Gendry after leaving the grocer Sainsbury’s. Arya insisted she needed to bring a bottle of wine to go with the spaghetti Gendry was making them. But also because she knew his nerves were already shot from learning that Podrick now knows about their relationship. She’s thankful for the buzz she currently has to help alleviate the stress of telling him about Hot Pie when they arrive at his flat in about three minutes. 

Digging through the bag, she picks out a pretty pink wig that she took a selfie of herself wearing at the shop earlier and begins to put it back on. 

“I like that one,” Podrick compliments. 

“Yeah, me too, thanks.” She then directs her attention away from the visor mirror to look at him. “Thank you for everything, really.” 

He smiles at her and looks back at the road. “What are future brother-in-laws for?”

Arya smiles and reaches for her phone to text Gendry before it hits her what he said.

“ _What_?”

“Nothing.”

Choosing to let it go, she focuses her attention back on her phone and sends Gendry the selfie from earlier along with a flirty text. After pressing send, she closes her eyes and pleads with the universe. Not for any one thing in particular, because she’s much too needy right now and has several requests. So instead, all she asks is  _Please_.  _Please. Please._

 

__


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my loves! This chapter picks up Monday evening with Podrick dropping Arya off at Gendry's. Thank you so much for all the love and support, it means a great deal to me! Enjoy :)
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To make a bizarre Monday evening even more peculiar, Arya catches sight of her anxious boyfriend walking outside down the pavement right as the car turns onto his street, and the headlights illuminate his form. Gendry’s back is turned as he walks away from the building. A cloud of smoke disperses and hovers around him, and instantly Arya feels guilty that she’s the reason behind one of his stress smokes. Now she wonders if this is the first time she’s driven him to smoke or not. She wasn’t expecting him to meet them upon arrival after the series of text messages she received from him earlier in response to finding out that Podrick is now aware of their relationship. Each text varied slightly in length, but they delivered the same eloquent message in all capital letters: FUCK. She assumed he’d wait for her inside in an effort to avoid Podrick, but perhaps his stress and need for a cigarette won out. 

 

Podrick pulls into an open space in front of the building. She can see Gendry stop to stand further down the pavement, checking his phone right after sending a quick text saying that she’s arrived. His head looks up, eyes squinting in their direction with a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip. Arya notices that he’s changed clothes since she left his flat earlier. He’s now wearing a black jacket over one of her favourite blue long sleeve shirts he owns that makes his azure eyes pop, with a pair of jeans and classic black and white striped Adidas trainers. Gendry slides his phone back into his jacket pocket and takes another drag off his cigarette before tentatively walking towards the source of illumination with a brooding expression that she finds to be worrisome, yet very alluring. Reminding her of the fierce and dark expression that he wore when he took her hard against his weapon display case. 

 

In spite of the nerves taking root in her stomach, the familiar and potent rush of arousal makes its presence felt between her thighs as she takes a moment to watch him with appreciation. The sun may have gone down, but he’s bathed in a warm glow; the brightness radiating from the jarring beams of the headlights spreads wide, lighting up the pavement and shrubbery in front of the brick building. Making him look ethereal. As he walks closer to the car, Arya quickly begins shoving the bottle of wine and shopping parcel holding her new lace front wigs into her book bag and turns to meet Podrick’s eyes before opening her door. They exchange a nervous smile that is mirrored on both faces.

 

“Do you think he’ll want to talk to me?” A concerned crease forms between Podrick’s questioning eyebrows as he stares at their professor and the ruminating expression he carries with him. 

 

Arya spares another glance at Gendry before answering. “I don’t know. I’m surprised he’s even down here.” 

 

Podrick takes a deep breath and releases a shaky exhale. “Alright, then. Good luck,” he wishes her. 

 

“Yeah, thanks, Pod. Have a good night,” Arya bids him farewell with a blush. 

 

When she opens the door and steps out, Gendry’s leisurely stride picks up pace. She closes the car door, then turns to greet him with a shy smile beneath pink bangs. He approaches with a bemused grin upon seeing her wearing a wig for the first time, eyes zeroed in on her colourful locks. Arya nervously reaches a hand up to pat the top of her head, making sure the wig is still set in place and not positioned at a funny angle. Though, seeing a smile of any kind gracing his lips fills her with relief, even if it’s at her expense. 

 

“Do I look like a chav in this wig?”

 

That earns her a smile that reaches his eyes. Gendry shakes his head silently, eyes checking to see whether the windows are rolled up on Podrick’s car.

 

“No, but you do look like the epitome of the punk rock girl fantasies I took liberties with myself to when I was a teenager.” 

 

Arya makes an interested face with eyebrows raised and a bright smile. She bookmarks that fascinating information to return to later. They’re standing in front of one another now, both suppressing the urge to embrace. The smoke from Gendry’s cigarette drifts up between them from his hand down by his side. After noticing, he tries to swat the cloud of smoke away with his free hand. 

 

“Sorry. Needed one. I’m sure you can imagine why,” Gendry tells her with a rueful grin. 

 

“No need to apologize. You’re pretty sexy when you smoke,” Arya flirts over the rumble of the car’s engine next to them. To make him feel less self-conscious, she reaches down to grab the cigarette from his hand and brings it up to her lips to take a drag. Their eyes meet before his drifts down to watch as she purses her lips and sucks on the filter. After inhaling, Arya lifts her chin to blow smoke away.

 

“I’m not the only one,” he quietly compliments with a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

 

Flicking the filter with her thumb to discard the extra ash the end has collected, she offers it back to him with a smile. In his eyes, she sees anxiety warring with intense yearning and finds herself wanting to provide comfort with her body and make him forget their new worries. Because she doesn’t know how else to make this better for him. 

 

“You keep it for now. That Pod?” Gendry tilts his head and nods at the car next to them. He raises his hand to motion at Podrick to stop when the car’s tires turn. 

 

“Yeah, why?” Arya takes another drag and looks over at Podrick in the driver’s seat, who is currently looking back at her with wide eyes.

 

“Want to say thanks,” he explains and gives her arm a squeeze, then proceeds to cross over to the other side of the car. Gendry bends at the waist in front of Podrick’s window while Arya rushes over to join him by his side. The sound of her heartbeat thrums in her ears as they wait for the window to roll down.

 

“Ah, good evening, Professor Baratheon?” Podrick questions and greets at the same time with a polite, timorous smile. 

 

The professor in question lets out a soft self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, I think _Gendry_ will do fine, mate.” His voice lowers as he continues. “Um, thanks for getting Arya here safely. And for your discretion. It’s much appreciated.” She had promised him over text on the way here that Podrick had sworn to help cover for them. Now knowing this is the reason he came downstairs, and imagining how uncomfortable Gendry must be feeling, makes the warmth of affection flood her ribcage. Watching him thank Podrick, whom he was once incredibly envious of over the assumption that he was dating Arya, makes the roots of her love for him burrow deeper in her chest.

 

“Not a problem, Prof- _Gendry_ ,” Podrick nearly slips, then nods his head, eyes darting between the two of them. Arya wonders what he’s thinking as he looks at them standing together, hip to hip in such an intimate, casual fashion for the first time. Phone in hand, she begins silently texting him with one thumb, then quickly puts it away. 

 

“Right, well, have a good night then. Cheers,” Gendry bids him farewell with a tight smile that he tries to soften, and stands to his full height next to Arya. 

 

A text alert sounds from inside Podrick’s car. His head swivels to look over at his phone, positioned in a holder clipped to the air vent. After a couple seconds, he looks back at Gendry and says, “Right, cheers, have a good night,” and gives Arya an amused smile before turning to roll his window back up.   

 

They walk around the end of the vehicle to allow Podrick to take off and end up back on the pavement, cigarette still in Arya’s hand. After remembering that, she brings it up to her lips for one last drag. With Podrick now gone, Gendry demands, “Gimmie,” and plucks the cigarette from between her fingers. She watches as his lips wrap around the filter, and straightaway, she longs to feel his lips similarly wrapped around her hardening nipples. 

 

“Well, I reckon he’s going to be getting brilliant As then. What grades will I be getting this term?” Arya asks in an overtly coquettish tone. 

 

“Pretty much,” he agrees with her assumption and exhales a billow of smoke. “You? You’re getting Fs,” he teases her while grinding the cigarette out beneath his trainer.

 

“What?! _Why_?!” 

   

“To throw people off the scent. In case anyone later questions whether we got together while you were still my student,” Gendry quips and steps forward until he’s right in front of her, looking down into her unamused face. 

 

With a raised eyebrow, she tells him, “How bloody dare you, I’ve _earned_ my grades fair and squa-,” right before he swiftly leans down to interrupt her rant with a kiss. They both immediately press their lips firmly against one another’s and hold the kiss in an effort to remind themselves that the other is still here with them in spite of the scare they suffered this evening. His hands rise to grasp her by the upper arms while she slides her palms up his chest, then reaches to hold his face. Her thumbs drag over the coarse stubble covering his jaw as their lips pull apart to meld back together again. The sound of a car passing by jogs Arya’s memory and not a moment too soon, that Hot Pie will likely be heading home in the next half hour. Reluctantly, she pulls away from his eager lips. 

 

“Let’s go up,” she whispers and begins pulling on his arm towards the entrance. He goes willingly without comment, only a small smirk. At last, when they cross the threshold, Arya finds herself for the second time this evening being gently pinned to the front door in welcome. Gendry wedges his muscular thigh in between her legs that are already spreading to make room for him. Pulling on the straps encircling her shoulders, he relieves her of her book bag and places it gently on the floor next to them. This has become something of a routine of theirs, to take turns with every welcome and farewell by pinning the other against the door and ravishing one another with roving hands and sweet kisses. 

 

With her back now flush against the door, he leans his forehead down to rest against her faux bangs.

 

“So.”

 

“So.”

 

“Fucking ‘ell.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Cufflinks. _Fucking_ cufflinks _,”_ Gendry’s voice is gruff with annoyance. 

 

Arya hums in agreement with a humorous smile she can’t contain and buries her face into the crook of his neck to hide her amusement at the situation. 

 

“And _why_ the _fuck_ did he fold my clothes?”

 

“It’s a long story involving a flammable dwarf.”

 

Gendry can’t help but snort in laughter. She nuzzles her nose against the side of his neck to help calm him; he smells of fresh tobacco and the arousing scent of leather, courtesy of the knicker drenching cologne he wears. The combination mixed with his natural masculine scent that is enhanced by the end of the day, is nearly enough to convince her that she doesn’t need to wait another two days to have sex, nor does Gendry necessarily need to learn tonight that his co-worker is now living down the hall and has already spotted her coming out of his flat.

 

 _Nearly._  

 

That being said, she’s not ready to deliver the troubling news just yet. So she delays the inevitable by playing with the waistband of his jeans where his shirt has risen up from resting his hands on the door next to her head. Her hands cup both hips, then run lightly over the skin of his lower stomach to meet below his belly button where his happy trail begins. Curious fingertips occasionally dip inside the band of his boxers to feel the wisps of dark curls lurking beneath. She never takes for granted this new privilege of hers to indulge her wandering hands whenever Gendry is close enough to touch. Seven months filled with countless daydreams that involved feasting her hands on the contours of his body; this very man standing before her who was and _still is_ technically unattainable by her, has left Arya deeply grateful for every forbidden touch and embrace. _How can it be forbidden when this feels so perfect, though?_ Arya thinks to herself.

 

Speaking of wandering hands, Gendry lifts her loose-fitting jumper to cradle her waist between his warm palms.

 

“Podrick’s a good bloke, though, yeah?”

 

He lowers his face into her neck and leaves soft, wet kisses as he begins slowly caressing her naked skin, starting from her hips and ending below her bra strap. Gendry’s palms tread lightly across her skin, making her shiver from his feather light touch. She digs eight fingers into his jeans, knuckles pressed against the surface of his pelvis. 

 

“Yeah, he is. You don’t have to worry about him,” she reassures. It’s clear to her that Gendry is still worn down with stress and seeking comfort. It just so happens that Arya is in great supply. 

   

“Still,” he pouts stubbornly. “I can’t _fucking_ believe he figured it ou _ahhh_ -” His voice becomes strangled after Arya cups his growing bulge, which is now as solid as marble. She gives him a squeeze to help put him further in a better mood. Gendry gently bites down on her neck and releases a happy whimper. The sound and feeling send a jolt of pleasure to the apex of her thighs, engorging her wet flesh, and causing her to grind down on his thigh crammed between her legs. She grunts into the warm skin of his neck. Much too easily, she could lose herself in this moment and in her own self-gratification, but Arya tries to refocus on Gendry and elevating his mood before she has to throw a bucket of ice cold water on him. 

 

“It’s okay, darling,” she coos. “He actually supports it, us being together. He’s definitely not going to tell anyone. Didn’t even tell Sansa.” Arya runs her palm up and down the length of his erection straining behind the zipper, making him breathe heavily through his nose. His hips give a few gentle thrusts against her hand while he works his way up her throat with teeth and tongue. She has to take a steadying deep breath to help concentrate on his pleasure. It’s hell knowing they can’t have sex yet when every swipe of his tongue and tantalizing pinch from his teeth is making the crotch of her jeans saturated in her arousal. 

 

“That’s good, that was-ah, re-really nice of him,” Gendry answers distractedly into the well bitten juncture between her neck and shoulder when her hand begins playfully fondling him. His right hand reaches up beneath her shirt to paw at her breast over the lacey cloth of her demi-cup bra. Arya’s nipple feels tender from she suspects overuse when his fingers reach inside the cup to pluck the hard bud. But the slight twinge of pain only heightens the rapture, causing her to groan wantonly into his ear. 

 

“Mmmm…what am I allowed to do to you in your current state?” Gendry asks into her collarbone in a deep and husky voice, both hands now overflowing with her tits beneath her jumper. It appears she’s been successful in distracting him. Arya debates whether to stop and tell him now about Hot Pie or wait until after giving him release so that he’ll possibly handle the news better. His eager hands and facial hair scraping her neck sinfully influence her decision. She goes with _let’s see how he’ll take the news after a blow job_. Because that’s honestly what she’d be doing right now anyway even if there was no disappointing news to share. 

 

Arya pulls back from his neck so she can stare into his blown out pupils. “You can watch as this pink haired punk rock fantasy sucks you off,” she whispers, voice raspy with a flirtatious grin. She begins pushing back against his looming form pinning her to the front door. 

 

Obviously not wishing to slow Arya down in her pursuit of bestowing him with an orgasm, he follows her lead and starts walking backwards with the aid of her hands guiding him. Gendry bites down on his bottom lip with a smile before whispering back, adoringly, “I don’t deserve you, love.” 

 

“Nonsense,” she promises him. Her voice is thick with feeling.  

 

Arya finds herself having to swallow down the sudden surge of emotions bubbling to the surface. A warning Podrick left her with in the car on the way over worms it’s way back to the forefront of her mind. 

 

 _“Just be careful, ‘kay? I’m sure nothing would happen to you if you guys were caught by the wrong person before the end of term, but he could definitely get sacked, Arya. Just remember that.”_  

 

Guilt sours her stomach and causes her features to turn. What he doesn’t deserve is to potentially lose his job because he happened to fall in love with the wrong person. Before she has a chance to correct her face, he’s already noticed the change and is about to inquire. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Gendry stops walking, which forces her to come to a halt as well. They’re halfway down the hallway leading to his room. 

 

“You know I love you, right?” Her thick brows contort with concern, partially visible through the curtain of pink strands. Amused blue eyes search her face, then plumb the depths of her wide and worried grey irises. A soft laugh escapes Gendry when she interrupts him right as he was about to answer her question.

 

“Because I do, I _really_ love you,” she promises with conviction, needing him to know. Pressing her palms into his broad and firm pecs, Arya lifts her chin with a soft and sexy pout, demanding the attention of his lips to meet hers. Automatically like a moth to a brilliant flame, he leans down to fulfil her wish. 

 

“I know you do. What’s going on, love?” he asks with concern.

 

She ignores his question with another kiss and determination in her stride as she begins walking him backwards into his room once more. They make it inside, but not without Gendry crashing first into the wall instead of going through the open doorway, much to her merriment and his chagrin. The lights are off, but the room is suffused in enough moonlight to see; it’s pouring in through the pulled back drapes over the French doors in the corner. After making it over to the bed, she firmly pushes down on his shoulders to make him sit on the end. As he lands on the mattress, Arya drops to her knees on the hardwood floor in front of him. Before the rebound bounce from his heavy landing on the bed settles, Arya’s hands are already tearing into his jeans to free him. Gendry leans back with a swallow when she wordlessly taps him on the hip so she can reach in and pull his thickness out. 

 

“You know I’d do anything for you?” Arya asks while at the same time stroking his shaft. Without waiting for his response, she leans forward to suck the head into her mouth, causing whatever answer he was about to deliver to sputter and die on his lips, while _her_ lips spread wide to accommodate his size. Gendry lets out a long moan and grips a handful of the sheets next to him in one fist. In that delicious sound, she hears unmistakable relief that Arya can recognize and detect as only a lover can. She wants to help him chase that feeling, which prompts her to suck harder. From her position on the floor between his legs, she watches the stress instantly melt off his face. Relief and happiness fill her while she writes him love letters with the tip of her tongue; his velvet and pliable skin her parchment. 

 

Gendry reaches down to move strands of pink hair away that is obscuring her face when she begins to bob her head up and down at a quicker speed. Arya glances up; he’s watching her intently through heavy lids. His eyes are dark and rimmed deep blue as he observes his cock covered in her saliva disappear past her lips. For a brief moment, her hand abandons his shaft to pull down on his opened jeans so she can reach in and fondle his balls. He mutters softly _oh fuck yes_ under his breath as she gently massages them in her hand, and returns his leaking tip to the wet, tight suction of her mouth. When she adds a second hand to stroke his shaft at the same time, he floods her mouth with pre-ejaculate. 

 

“ _Oh_ , _fuck! Arya, god, I love the way you suck my cock_ ,” he stammers breathlessly. The hand cradling the back of her head threads his fingers through pink strands belonging to the wig. Lost in concentration on the repetitive movements of her mouth and both hands working to bring him release, it takes Arya a moment to realize he’s sliding the wig off her head. Her large, luminous eyes look up for an answer while never breaking her pace. 

 

“I want to see _my_ Arya when I come in your mouth,” Gendry explains in a low, husky voice. The words and the look on his face make Arya clench her thighs tightly together and moan loudly around his cock as she re-doubles her efforts. Her hands start massaging and stroking faster; she takes as much of his length as her gag reflexes allow. Utterly drunk on lust, he’s beginning to lose his mind. He clutches the back of her head and grabs her arm. 

 

“ _Yes, fuck, just like that, love, so fucking good, you’re gonna make me_ -” he rasps out right before the sweetest release finds him. Gendry moans her name as his seed splashes against her tongue. Arya continues sucking and jerking his cock gently and long after swallowing every drop. Not until he finally pries her off to grab her face and kiss her does she stop her ministrations. 

 

Getting the chance to experience and see Gendry in this intimate light while he surrenders to absolute bliss under her dutiful mouth and hand is something she never thought would happen. Yet here she is, sitting in his lap while he kisses her appreciatively, telling her how much he loves and adores her, how amazing she makes him feel. Arya is starting to feel apprehensive about telling him. Perhaps because she feels so happy at the present moment. This right here, this bubble of theirs feels so perfect that she’s afraid of it being taken away by this news. Because she knows it would be risky to continue coming over for the next six weeks even while deploying her faulty plan. But Arya is also very greedy when it comes to wanting to spend all their available free time together. And she doesn’t feel quite ready to talk to Sansa. 

 

His hand is creeping up along her inner thigh as he kisses her neck, distracting her from her thoughts. She’s sitting sideways across his lap. 

 

“How are you feeling?” Arya asks and combs his hair with her fingers. 

 

“Fucking brilliant now, thank you, love.” He gently kisses her cheeks. “How about you? Can I return the favour?” he asks hopefully. 

 

Arya decides it’s time. “Yes, but first…there’s more.” 

 

His eyes automatically shut with a grimace, while his shoulders slump forward. “ _Aw fuck_ , I knew it. You’ve been waiting till after getting me off to tell me, haven’t you?” Gendry asks cynically. 

 

She visibly winces. “Yes.”

 

“Arya!”

 

“Are you really complaining about a goddamn blow job, Baratheon? I wanted to put you in a good mood first before telling you!” She softly slaps the back of his head.

 

Gendry shoves his face into her tits and lets out a miserable stifled groan. She pats his head soothingly and takes a deep breath. The action makes his head lift along with her expanding rib cage.

 

“ _Right, out with it._ ” The demand is muffled by her tits, which his face is still deeply pressed against. 

 

Arya holds the back of his head to her chest and swallows before speaking. “Hot Pie is your new neighbour down the hall. He thought he saw me come out of your flat this morning and told Podrick tonight in open lab. Podrick covered for us, told him that I was home all night with him and Sansa. Hot Pie seemed disappointed by that, why do you think that is?” She rushes through all the information as quickly as possible and ends on that question as a means to hopefully distract him for a few seconds at the very least. 

 

“… _WHAT_ …”

 

“Oh, dear.”

 

“ _THE FUCK, do you mean Hot Pie lives down the hall_?!” Gendry yells into her tits, hands digging into her thigh and ass. He tries to lift his head, but she’d rather he not right now, so she presses the side of Gendry’s head back down to keep him in the warm cotton cocoon of her breasts. 

 

“Hot Pie told Podrick tonight that he _thought_ he saw me coming out of your flat this morning, but he doesn’t even know for certain that you live here because he’s only going off of the fact that he heard…well, _me_ moaning your name over the weekend,” Arya ends sheepishly. 

 

There’s a pause before he responds. “ _He’s heard us have sex?_ ” 

 

“Yeah,” she sighs grudgingly. 

 

“ _Aw_ _fuck me,_ ” Gendry bemoans and hugs her waist tightly. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and lays her cheek on top of his head. 

 

“I’m sorry, babe, I can’t until Wednesday,” Arya whispers and plants soft kisses in his hair and around the shell of each ear. He gives a sad laugh. Finally, she lets his head rise from the soundproofing and comfort of her generous breasts. He wears a dejected expression. She holds his face and kisses him soundly. Arya pours her love into every press of their lips, allowing no room for doubt in his mind about her sincerity. 

 

“That’s why you were wearing a wig,” he breathes against her lips, forehead resting against hers. She nods. 

 

“I bought a few different ones,” Arya confirms. He hums in response. There’s a beat before he speaks again. 

 

“So, that was your plan, then? To sneak over wearing different wigs to fool him?” She nods her forehead against his, causing Gendry to nod along with her. Arya tenses in his arms, expecting him to tell her what a foolish idea it is.

 

“Brilliant.” He surprises her instead.

 

“Really?” Her face brightens. 

 

“Yeah, he would honestly be none the wiser. Remember that time when he addressed Professor Barnes as ‘sir’ after she chopped all her hair off? Bloody idiot had nought a clue who she was. And any time a woman he knows colours their hair, he can’t recognize them right away.” 

 

“That’s where I got the idea from,” Arya explains with a small smile. He smiles back, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Gendry doesn’t look wholly convinced with this idea.

 

“What is it?” she asks. 

 

“It’s just…as amazing as you look in that wig, which you do, you look _so fucking sexy_ in it, and thank you, by the way, for fulfilling my 17-year-old fantasies.” Gendry pauses for a moment to kiss her softly. “But…you having to resort to wearing a wig to sneak over…I don’t like that, Arya. It makes this feel too much like an affair. And it’s _not_. I mean, technically, I suppose for now others would say…but _no-_ ” He shakes his head, getting worked up, and looks intensely into her eyes. “This _isn’t_ an affair, it’s a relationship. You’re my girlfriend, you’re _mine_ ,” Gendry tells her passionately, and cradles the back of her head with his large hand. “You of all people in my life shouldn’t have to sneak over to my flat. It’s not fair.” His voice slightly croaks near the end. 

 

Arya has to bite her bottom lip to keep it from trembling. “Thank you,” she whispers before enveloping his cheeks with her palms and kissing him thoroughly again. This day began with her telling him the same thing as they laid in bed, avoiding getting dressed. When their lips break apart, she sighs and asks, “So, what do we do?” 

 

He looks lost for a moment in contemplation. Slowly Gendry lowers his head against her shoulder and speaks into her neck. “I want you to keep coming over. But I feel like that’s unfair to ask of you to do because you shouldn’t have to wear a fucking disguise to visit your boyfriend and shag him to sleep.” 

 

She leans down and smiles against the side of his face. “Remember when I asked if you knew I’d do anything for you? I wasn’t taking the piss, I meant it. Why do you think I now own four wigs?” 

 

Gendry’s arms tighten around her and pull her back onto the bed with him. “Fucking hell, Arya,” he gently chastises her. 

 

“What?” Arya responds a tad sharply. “I want to be able to keep coming over, so I hatched a plan.” She leans away to tug her jumper over her head, then throws her thigh over his hip, turning in his arms to face him. His hand comes up automatically to weigh her breast in his palm. He’s still wearing his jacket, so she helps push it off his shoulders while he squirms to remove it. Gendry’s jeans are still unbuttoned. He’s tucked away but growing once more. 

 

Arya, wearing a bra and a pair of jeans, kicks off her boots before bringing her feet up on the bed. She tucks her head beneath his chin, and he wraps his arms around her.

 

“I tried making us spaghetti, but I cocked up and burned the sauce. Was too stressed out. Can I interest you in pizza delivered instead?”

 

She giggles briefly into his chest and tells him that sounds great. “How are you doing now? Are you okay?”

 

Gendry takes a quick deep breath and on an exhale answers, “Yeah. Might need another jobby, though.” 

 

“Okay. Do you want it before or after the pizza arrives?” Arya asks seriously, which makes him laugh. 

 

He picks up her hand to kiss the back. “I’m kidding, love.”

 

“You’re _not_ kidding, and I honestly don’t care, I’ll give you as many as you want,” she says while snuggling against him to rub her face into his neck. Arya reaches up to hold his cheek and whispers into the skin below his ear, “Please, whatever will convince you to let me keep coming over. Please don’t end this.” 

 

“End this? Are you mad?” Gendry’s tone is displeased that she would even think he’d suggest such a thing. He tries to turn his head to look at her, but she won’t let him. Arya continues to bury her face into his neck and hold his cheek.

 

“Arya, I’m not ending anything. Why would you think that?” His hand skims down her back and slides over her pert ass. 

 

“Just a worry of mine is all,” she whispers into his skin.

 

Gendry kisses the top of her head several times rapidly, making a loudly comical kissing noise with each one. “That’s not something you ever need to worry yourself with. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.” 

 

She clutches his waist with her thighs and rolls him until he’s on his back so Arya can straddle his hips and lie draped across his chest. Looking down into his eyes, dark brown strands fall like a curtain, framing her face. They don’t look nearly as vibrant or lustrous as those of the pink wig. Gendry pushes her hair out of the way to grab her by the back of the neck. While he brings her down for a kiss, he whispers and smiles adoringly at her, “There’s my girl.” The kiss is impassioned and assuring. Arya can tell he’s trying to erase her worries by pouring every ounce of feeling his heart beats for her through his lips. It’s working.

 

When they pull apart, Arya whispers, “Are you going to let me come over wearing my new wigs?” 

 

Gendry sighs. “I really don’t like you having to do that.” 

 

“I’m offering,” she says firmly. 

 

“Of course I’m going to let you come over, are you daft, woman? You think I could actually say _no_ to you?” Gendry asks exasperated. “But…why can’t we also start going to your flat? Podrick knows now anyway. And so does fucking _Hot Pie_ , for fuck sake. What difference does it make if your sister knows? She’s going to find out eventually, right?” 

 

Arya raises a baffled eyebrow. “That must have been some hell of a jobby I gave you.” 

 

“It _really_ fucking was, you should be proud. Look, all I’m saying is if she knows, then we can split our time between both places and reduce the chance of accidentally running into Hot Pie.” 

 

When he puts it like that, she really doesn’t know what the issue is anymore. Other than holding on to an old resentment from when she was fourteen. Sansa, her very protective older sister, tattled on Arya to their parents for hanging out with a group of older lads after school one day. They were her friends as far as she was concerned. Arya didn’t understand what the fuss was about until their mother sat her down and explained what most older boys want from younger girls. Looking down at Gendry, she thinks to herself, _Yeah, that sounds about right_ , with a smile slowly spreading across her face. 

 

“You sure you’re ready to meet her? For her to know?”

 

Before he even answers, Arya can tell by his expression that he’s certain. “I am. Are you?”

 

She swallows and thinks back on what Podrick told her at the pub. About how Sansa couldn’t wait to meet whoever has captured Arya’s attention. Flashes of double dates and the four of them having a night in by playing drinking games together, come to the forefront of her mind. Suddenly she wants those images to become real. 

 

“Yeah, I am.” She happily nods and leans down to kiss him. 

 

“So, why do you think Hot Pie would sound disappointed when Pod told him it wasn’t me he saw?” 

 

A blush creeps high onto his cheeks. “Ah, well…”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves!
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> This is a continuation of the last chapter.
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Arya waits for her boyfriend’s answer while scooting back off him to stand next to the bed. He’s momentarily distracted from replying, however, watching instead with great interest as her hips shimmy out of a pair of skinny jeans. The straps of her bra slip down her arms next and fall to the heap on the floor before she crawls back over Gendry’s legs, wearing nought but a slip of sheer ivory fabric between her thighs. As she settles back on her haunches, her knees brush the outsides of his well-muscled thighs that are evinced even through the denim of his jeans. Arya looks down at him expectingly. Big, warm hands rise to seize her hips while penetrating blue eyes devour her. She feels every swath of his searing gaze upon her skin. It makes her nipples tighten, and her breasts begin to ache for the rough grip of his calloused palms. Her teeth sink deep into her bottom lip as goose pimples erupt across each breast. 

 

Gendry squeezes her hips and explains with a blush. “He, uh,…caught me perving a couple times, staring at you when I thought no one was looking. He’s taken the piss, about me fancying you.” His grimacing smile is a couple shades of embarrassed. Arya’s cheeks ache from smiling widely at him. 

 

She starts tugging his jeans down the prepossessing sight of V-line hips she feels drawn to outline with her wet tongue. As the denim slides off, his hard, impressive manhood is released and lands heavily with a soft thud against his lower belly. Without waiting to be instructed, Gendry tears his long sleeve shirt off over his head and throws it across the room. The flex and ripple of his abs as he moves has Arya, and her roving fingers mesmerized. 

 

Wednesday will mark the end of her course of antibiotics for her first dreadful UTI. The pain has been nonexistent since this morning, so Arya is hoping that an innocent dry fucking won’t reanimate her symptoms. She scoots further up his thighs to straddle his hips. Ever so gently, she lowers her warm cotton centre onto his bare shaft. Her hips oscillate until the swelling lips of her sex spread open over his thickness against the barrier of her thin knickers. The contact draws a needy moan from them both. Arya squirms until she’s found a delightful position, and seats herself firmly, evoking a deep groan from his chest.  

 

“What have you told him when he says you fancy me?” she asks with a breathy quaver in her voice. It’s only been 48 hours since they last had sex, but right now, it feels like it’s been much longer. Arya rocks slowly against him. 

 

“I just tell him he’s daft, that I’m more of a….” Gendry drifts off with eyebrows scrunched together.

 

Concerned, Arya’s hips come to a halt. “What?” 

 

His face carries a sheepish expression. “Ah, well, I was going to say ‘ _more of a professional than that_ ,’” he replies with a nervous laugh. “But as you can see with my very inappropriate hard cock between your beautiful legs, I’m blatantly _not_ ,” he ends with a self-deprecating and lighthearted scoff.  

 

Her eyebrows furrow in spite of his attempted jape. “Does that bother you?” 

 

Their hips have stilled, yet his erection remains firm. If he is bothered, it’s not affecting his desire for her. Gendry swallows before answering. A latent smile begins to develop on his lips, tinged with a hint of mischievousness. 

 

“What? Am I bothered that I cocked up and failed miserably in resisting you?” 

 

He pulls on her hips then, roughly dragging Arya towards him against his rock hard shaft. She whimpers and braces both hands upon his sculpted chest, seeking purchase when she slants her hips forward to rub her clit along his length. Calloused fingers dig into the supple flesh of her hips, reminding her of the immense strength that he possesses. It generates a large saturated spot on her knickers that is growing exponentially by the second. She wishes Gendry would dig a little deeper, a little harder with his fingers till it hurts, just a bit. He flicks his tongue out to lick his top lip, and grunts when she slides back over his cock. 

 

“Or because you’ve inspired me to willingly break fuck knows how many policies and codes of conduct?” Gendry asks, his voice an octave lower than before. 

 

He forcibly thrusts his hips upward, breaking yet another rule, another policy, causing her to bounce and land back down on his thickness deliciously hard. The action makes her inhale a loud, piercing gasp. Tears spring forth and threaten to spill at the immense pleasure that is permeating in her knickers. Arya’s thighs spread wider over top of him at the insistence of his palms, pushing outward on the insides of her knees. He then reaches up to pull her face down by the chin held between his thumb and forefinger. Gendry’s eyes never falter in maintaining her stare. The thumb resting on her chin slides up to catch and pull down her bottom lip. She licks the pad of his thumb and narrows her eyes.

 

“Aye, I _should_ be bothered. I should be sick with guilt. But I’m not. I can’t be when you feel this _fucking_ good and perfect.” 

 

Arya moans and undulates her hips in a manner that would suggest it hasn’t been just under a week since losing her virginity. The calculated and feline-esque movement elicits a breathy, pitiful groan from him. He gives her hip a tight squeeze that borders on pain, instinctively fulfilling her desire. She bucks against his hardness and takes his entire thumb into her mouth, sucking hard until her cheeks are hollowed. Gendry’s brilliant blue eyes smoulder intensely as he stares up at her. 

 

“I hope you know you’re the _only_ woman I’ve ever met who has the power to make me risk my livelihood for just one kiss, one bloody chance to touch you, you _gorgeous_ thing.”

 

She pulls on his wrist to detach his thumb from the suction of her mouth and crashes her lips down against his immediately. Feeling overwhelmed with desire, a primal ache for him twinges deep within her core. Knowing she can’t satisfy that need yet frustrates her. He clutches the back of her head, lost in a moan as they kiss. Her pelvis begins rutting on his hardness. Having to lean down to reach his face helps press her clit firmly against his cock, sending warm blood rushing to her groin, swelling her folds. The firm pressure of rubbing her sex against his feels intoxicating, even if her sensitive bundle of nerves is hidden behind a wisp of fabric. If anything, the friction the fabric provides aids in intensifying the pleasure. 

 

Her erect pink teats graze softly across his chest hair. They’ve been itching to be fondled and sucked thoroughly ever since watching him smoke earlier.

 

“Suck on my nipples,” Arya directs with a sultry whisper in his ear, fingers carding through soft dark locks on top of his head. Her face lifts from his neck, finding a smile and a glint of lustful delight in his eyes.

 

“I love hearing you tell me what to do to you,” he breathes before nipping her bottom lip and shuffling down a bit underneath her. 

 

Arya holds herself up by planting her hands on the bed, elbows straight. Head now aligned with her chest, Gendry grabs her right breast in front of his face and squeezes the firm flesh before lifting his chin to lave her nipple with his tongue. He coats it in a sheen of his saliva with tortuously slow licks. Before giving her what she wants, he uses the tip of his pointed tongue to tease the sensitive bud, making her whine and squirm against his hard cock with every swipe. His teeth scrape over the tender flesh and bite down gently at first, then harder until she’s gasping. Arya pushes encouragingly on the back of his head, smashing his nose into the swell of her breast. Finally, his teeth release the bud that is now red, and promptly wraps his lips around it, sucking with the same amount of force that he bit her with. His free hand grabs her other breast and kneads the perky rose tipped globe. She grinds down on his long length.

 

“ _Mmm, baby_ , that feels _so_ good,” Arya breathily moans against his temple. She has an arm wrapped around his shoulders, while the other props her up.

 

Gendry releases a deep groan when she calls him baby. She loves all of his varying reactions every time she calls him a pet name while he’s engaged with her body. Enthusiastic fingers pluck and pinch her other nipple before transferring his wet and eager mouth over. Arya arches her back, pushing her throbbing tits into his mouth and hand. They grow heavier under his meticulous attention; nipples rock hard and tight, firming the entire breast. Their hips remain actively rutting against one another. His pelvis drives upward to meet each of her thrusts while he shoves her pert tits together so he can quickly suck one, then turn his head to bite the other. The heady sensation that he’s everywhere at once dominates her senses, reducing her world to the textured slide of wet knickers against Gendry’s thick cock, and his mouth gorging on her sensitive tits. His strong fingers massage each breast as the pace of her hips increases. It isn’t before long that her pelvis makes quick, jerky movements as she begins to approach the crest. Gasping for breath and moaning unrestrained, she feels his abs flex tight under her hands when he sits up a bit further to reach her bountiful breasts. 

 

His lips and teeth release her nipple from the most enjoyable torment he has been bestowing upon her. In a sexy, sandpaper rough voice, Gendry begins talking to her above a whisper to encourage her release. 

 

“ _Oh yeah, just like that, luv. Fuck, you feel so good. I can feel how wet you are even through your knickers. You’re soaked, you naughty girl._ ”

 

Her hips lurch, and clit engorges as she moans loudly. She absolutely loves when he talks dirty to her, and always right when he suspects she’s nearly about to come. Unprovoked, his hand rises and swiftly comes down hard, slapping her ass with a deafening smack. Arya surges forward with a loud yelp that turns into a groan, shoving her wet teats against his chin. A new flood of arousal coats his cock, glistening in the moonlight. She drops her head to nuzzle his face with a sweet whimper. Gendry keeps his hand on her ass, cupping below the cheek. He tugs on her and flexes his obliques and lower abs while raising his hips to provide a firmer foundation for her to grind against. Now when her clit glides over his shaft, it feels sharper, more pronounced. Gendry sucks his top teeth, watching her swollen lips through the sheer fabric, sliding down his cock. 

 

“ _I can’t wait to come all over your knickers, darling_ ,” he whispers, and Arya is done for. Stars burst underneath her eyelids as she grinds down hard and bucks rapidly, crying out when her climax engulfs her. He lets go of her other tit and takes control of her hips, dragging her aggressively over his cock. The extra force and show of domination extends and strengthens her orgasm already in progress, whiting out her vision as she rides the tumultuous waves of splendour. His cock is red and pulsating beneath her, ready to spill at any moment. Her fingers claw into Gendry’s pecs that are slightly damp with sweat, trying to hold on, for now, he’s in complete control of her hips. 

 

“ _Come for me, baby_ ,” she pleads breathlessly. 

 

“ _Aw fuck-Arya_!” Gendry shouts before grunting through his release. His seed shoots out a far distance; the first puddle lands in between his pecs. Another gushing squirt lands in a long line marking his stomach and chest. Arya takes back control and slides down to ride the head. The next and final series of spurts he releases saturates the front of her knickers, creating a warm, sticky mess that she spreads going back and forth. His fingers relinquish their nearly painful dig as all of his muscles that were once clenched tight now relax. Gendry melts into the bed with a look of total rapture; chest heaving, eyes closed and lips parted. She takes a moment to admire the expression of bliss on his gorgeous face that she is responsible for.

 

Her eyes wander down to follow the trail of his release that is splashed across his torso. With curiosity and intrigue leading her, she reaches out to touch it. It occurs to her that she’s never really seen his come until now. Since the first time they had sex, Gendry has always spilt his release inside her. As for blowjobs, Arya swallows. Like a good girl, she enjoys reminding him. Seeing him bask in a post-orgasmic high slathered in his own seed is incredibly erotic. The scene before her is such a significant contrast to the mental images she has of Gendry as Professor Baratheon standing in front of the classroom wearing a suit and tie. The difference is jarring, obscene, and makes her cunt throb for him once more. 

 

She starts to draw nonsensical patterns on his chest with her index finger as their breathing calms. Gendry groggily opens his eyes at this. He lifts his head, squinting.

 

“Are you using my come to paint on me?” 

 

Arya’s fingers never hesitate as she continues drawing on him. “Mm-hmm.” 

 

He drops his head back down to the bed with a snort and closes his eyes.

 

“What’s it say?”

 

“It says _I’m-starving-feed-me_ ,” Arya answers while writing the message across his heart with his seed. 

 

His pecs shake up and down as he laughs. 

 

“I’ve never had someone play with my come before.”

 

That commands her gaze. A sexual first for him? She likes the sound of that and bookmarks it for later. Arya continues to draw random shapes.

 

“Order us dinner while I get the shower ready.”

 

A brilliant smile breaks out across his face as he opens his eyes once more and looks at her.

 

“Yes, ma’am.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

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It’s Wednesday, and midterms are halfway over. There was supposed to be a critique tomorrow in Classic Metalwork; however, Professor Baratheon had to begrudgingly push it back to next Thursday. Hot Pie conveniently had to call out sick with the flu yesterday morning, much to Arya’s and most of her classmates’ relief. With their lab tech now off for the rest of the week, the smithy can’t operate during open lab hours. And several procrastinating students were in need of those extra last-minute lab sessions before the critique. Hence no one was able to finish their midterm project in time. Except for Arya, of course. Her’s has been completed since early April. It’s now the 1st of May.

 

Hot Pie’s absence was joyous news upon walking into the smithy yesterday morning, easing Arya’s nerves by delaying the inevitable awkward run-in. She’s hopeful that a week away from work, high and delusional on cold medicine, will help erase or distort any memory Hot Pie has of catching her walking out of Professor Baratheon’s flat.

 

Speaking of which, Arya hasn’t had the opportunity to return to said flat since Monday evening. Which has her still quite miffed. 

 

 

A burgeoning smile threatens to emerge on her face. Arya rolls her eyes instead, putting the phone back on the table, screen facing down. She wants to remain annoyed with him, so she buries her face again into her textbook. Crossing her legs under the table, she flips another highlighted page. Her phone vibrates. Arya huffs, turns another page. 

 

Her phone vibrates. 

 

She sighs and picks the phone back up to see that Gendry has sent her two screenshots from their conversation the night before. 

 

“Cheeky git,” Arya mutters to herself. 

 

Prior to the arranged time she was supposed to visit him at his flat last night, Gendry had asked in passing if she was finished with studying for her other exams. To which she replied that she couldn’t be since she hadn’t even  _started_  yet. Arya didn’t get a lick of reading done over the weekend  _(since a certain someone was busy licking her.)_  He insisted she stay home then, claiming she wouldn’t be able to concentrate at his flat. Which irritated her  _greatly_. 

 

 

Arya doesn’t bother to open the second screenshot he sent. She lightly tosses the phone, disturbing the quiet stillness of the fifth floor in the university’s library. But seeing as how she’s the only one there, her faux pas goes unnoticed. This is her favourite spot to study, tucked away in the back corner hidden behind the archival stacks housing books on Westerosi history. No one ever seems to venture up here on account of inane rumours that this floor is haunted. If there’s one thing she gleaned from all of her campus visits to various schools before settling on London Royal University, it is that nearly all old, prestigious universities in the UK come with their fair share of ghost stories. Seeing as how Arya doesn’t believe in such nonsense, she has been fortunate enough to claim this floor for herself during one of the busiest weeks of the term. She’s even taken the liberty of turning half of the overhead lights off so she can read in the muted light pouring from a window nook located a few feet away from her table. Even staff are reluctant to come up here as well, so she hasn’t been told off for making the floor suitable to her liking.

 

After several minutes of silence, her phone vibrates again. Her eyes wander off the page and over to the screen, seeing Gendry’s name displayed accompanied by a series of question marks. Picking the phone back up, she gives in and clicks on the second screenshot he sent.

 

 

She squeezes her thighs together to dull the ache that has lingered since last night. Frustrated and disappointed as she was at his refusal to bend to her will, Arya couldn’t help but feel flattered. His unswerving attitude was that he wouldn’t be able to control his thirst with her around, knowing she could receive his attention again. As far as arguments go, he did a shit job of convincing Arya it was in her best interest to stay home. After bantering back and forth over the whys and why nots, she finally gave up and conceded defeat. But she made sure to leave Gendry suffering for the impediment before returning to the numerous opened textbooks in her lonely bed.

 

Arya texts back, along with a screenshot of her own.

 

 

Smirking to herself, her thumb scrolls back to the end of their conversation from last night. The pièce de résistance was Gendry’s response to her revengeful teasing.

 

 

She ignored her phone for the rest of the night after that, intent on punishing him. When she woke up this morning, exhausted from barely sleeping, she couldn’t shake her annoyance with Gendry. Mostly because she had gotten quite used to going to bed and waking up with him under her cheek laid on his chest for the past five days. It was a feat just to get comfortable and drowsy enough to fall asleep, let alone stay asleep. Tossing and turning all night didn’t help her mood, either.

 

 

It hadn’t been obvious to her. He just kept insisting that she’d be more productive studying at home. Arya’s irritation blinded her from putting two and two together. Her sour mood begins to ebb away, replaced with a feeling of warmth knowing he had her best interests at heart.

 

 

Within ten minutes, the distant sound of elevator doors can be heard opening, and a single pair of footsteps walk out onto the hardwood floor and stop. Arya’s phone vibrates.

 

 

Tentative footsteps resume forward motion heading in her direction. The light from his phone’s flashlight appears ahead of him before Gendry rounds the corner and heads down an aisle leading to her table. Slowly, Arya raises her eyes from her textbook to find him standing in front of her with a vexed expression. He looks back down to turn the flashlight off and speaks quietly. 

 

“You’re fuckin’ mad.” 

 

“So who really pinched your arse? Was it the librarian’s assistant, that tidy ginger downstairs? Or perhaps another slag?”

 

Gendry narrows his eyes at her. “ _The ghost_ ,” he whispers as though the alleged apparition can hear him. 

 

Arya rolls hers. “Do you hear the absolute rubbish coming out of your mouth?”

 

“There’s a bloody ghost whose been knocking about on this floor since the 1700s! Everyone here knows that. Look around,” Gendry gestures with arms spread wide, head on a swivel. “There’s no one here except for a fit bird who’s daft as fuck.” 

 

“An arse pinching ghost?” Her eyebrow raises sceptically, ignoring his jape. 

 

“ _Yes_. Pinching arses, moving shit around, _throwing_ books off shelves. I haven’t stepped foot here in six months. Nearly shat myself coming out of the lift when I saw how dark it was.”

 

Arya snorts in laughter.

 

“Piss off. I _hate_ that all the books on ancient Westeros are up here.” He turns around to look at the books on the shelves behind him. 

 

Arya quietly pushes her chair away from the table and proceeds to silently walk over on the balls of her feet to join him. Biting down on her lip to contain her laughter, she reaches out and grabs a handful of his delectable ass. Gendry’s cheeks tighten in response as he jumps with a yelp. He looks down at her from over his shoulder before shaking his head with an unsteady exhale. 

 

“ _Such a brat_ ,” he mutters under his breath. 

 

She lets out a giggle and winds her arms around his waist, laying her cheek in between his shoulder blades. A relieved sigh leaves her chest to be able to touch him again. His hand comes up to cover hers before gingerly turning around in the circle of her arms.

 

“I slept like shit without you,” Gendry tells her, his voice an octave lower than before. It sends a flutter of warmth between her thighs. 

 

“Glad I wasn’t the only one.”  

 

He lowers his forehead down against hers. 

 

“I’m sorry about barring you last night.” 

 

Tucking a stray hair behind Arya’s ear, he leans further down to capture her lips in a chaste, apologetic kiss. But the moment their lips connect passion surges and reanimates them both, bringing them back from the claws of sleep deprivation. Their lips pull apart and meld quickly back together again, blood rising and colouring both of their faces. Arya teases his bottom lip with her tongue until his mouth opens, allowing her access to devour him whole. She presses her body close to his and wedges her bare thigh between his legs, causing her skirt to rise. The outline of his hard length is undeniable against her hip. A soft moan reverberates from her throat, causing him to groan and pull away.

 

“Will you be needing to study again tonight?” His eyes are begging her to say no. 

 

“No, I’m all done with exams after my English class this afternoon.” 

 

Arya closes her eyes and leans back in, but her kiss doesn’t land; he’s lent back further to look at her with hungry desire written across his face.   

 

“Then, I look forward to thoroughly shagging you senseless tonight.” 

 

His smile starts to fall upon seeing a grimace reshape her features. 

 

“I can’t come over tonight…or tomorrow night, I’m afraid. I have training with Hound for the competition next week, and I’ll definitely need to soak afterwards in the bath.”

 

At this very moment, Arya really wishes Sansa already knew about Gendry so he could come over and join her tonight instead of having to delay seeing him for another two nights. She’s waiting until after midterms to have that conversation with her sister since Sansa has been overwhelmed with stress this week, thanks to exams. Arya wants her in a good head space so that she’ll _(hopefully)_ react pleasantly to the news.

 

Gendry’s shoulders slump, and he breathes out a disappointed sigh. He pushes on her lower back to bring her in closer and nuzzles her nose with his.

 

“Well,…shite.”

 

“And this is why you should have let me come over last night.” 

 

“Then you should have said-“  

 

“Consider our miscommunication even.” 

 

They smile at each other, signalling their truce.

 

“I now regret not taking the smaller flat with a tub in my building when I had the chance,” Gendry muses, his tone lighthearted yet tinged with remorse.   

 

“My balcony was a good trade-off,” she reminds him with a wink, referring to the title of his preliminary sketch she spotted earlier this week. Her reminder earns Arya a smile returning to his lips and eyes. Without fail, she loses herself in those deep blue irises and laugh lines. 

 

Arya’s hand trails down his muscled stomach and cups his hardness confidently with the intent to seduce. The warmth of his cock radiates through the fabric of his trousers. Always running hot, her boy. He inhales sharply, pushing his hips further into her hand. She loves the power this one simple touch grants her. Knickers already on their way to being soaked and body thrumming with ardour, Arya is determined not to let him leave without first being filled by the cock in her hand that is as much his as it is now hers, permanently branded by her touch. She grabs a fistful of his shirt to bring him closer. 

 

“You can still shag me senseless.” 

 

She waits for understanding to dawn in his widening eyes. 

 

“Wha’? _No_ ,” Gendry protests. But he sounds like he’s a few determined strokes away from caving, despite his objection.

 

“ _Yes,_ Gendry _.”_

 

 _“No_ , Arya. We _definitely_ can’t do that here.”

 

Her hand rubs up and down his entire long length, feeling him grow even harder. Gendry chokes on a moan he fails to contain. 

 

“Your cock says otherwise.” 

 

“This was supposed to be just a kiss.”

 

“You knew I was lying.”

 

“Of _course_ , I knew.”

 

“And you came anyway,” Arya purrs, a Cheshire smile gracing her face. 

 

The sound of the elevator doors open, rendering them both frozen. Their eyes widen, staring at one another with panic. Not a single breath leaves their lips as they both strain to listen for the sound of footsteps. But none can be heard. Arya’s hand is still cupping his now wilting erection. Thirty seconds pass and yet no steps. 

 

“ _What was that?_ ” Gendry whispers.   

 

Arya narrows her eyes at him and whispers back, “ _You mean_ ** _who_** _was that._ ” 

 

A heavy book suddenly crashes to the hardwood floor in the distance. Gendry flinches and draws Arya closer, panting. Even she has to admit that sound was disconcerting. Heart pounding in her chest, she tries not to focus on what Gendry said earlier about books flying off shelves. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down with a nervous swallow. 

 

“ _Ah shit,”_ a man’s voice can be heard, followed by the sound of a book being picked up. 

 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Gendry whispers and grabs her upper arms to gently push her away. 

 

 _Hide!_ she mouths silently to him, and off he goes, tiptoeing as quickly and delicately as possible. She does the same, heading back to her chair. 

 

Her heart is still racing, causing the sound of her own pulse to roar in her ears, drowning out all ambient noises. It’s making it difficult for Arya to track the whereabouts of the bastard who has interrupted her plans. The bloke must either weigh 7 stone or isn’t wearing shoes. She has no other explanation for why he’s managed to stay so quiet. Arya’s eyes scan over the same paragraph in her textbook without absorbing any of the words while trying not to worry about whether Gendry was able to find a decent spot to hide. Finally, a rustle of fabric indicates that their mystery guest is walking in her direction. And is now making his way to her precious secluded corner. Arya feels like a trapped animal with her back facing the wall, and her looming irritation threatens to make her bite whoever comes near. She sees his feet before the rest of him, wearing a pair of ridiculous Vibram Five Fingers shoes that look like gloves for feet. Proving her earlier assumption correct about the lack of shoes. He walks further down the aisle, head turned and eyes squinting for a call number. 

 

“Ramsay,” Arya announces with disdain. 

 

“Jesus, FUCK! You scared the shit out of me, I thought you were-” he gasps, clutching his chest. 

 

“The ghost of Wren Hall Library?” She fixes him with a scathing stare. 

 

He tries to right himself by standing up straighter and pushing his shoulders back. 

 

“ _No_.” He doesn’t sound convincing.  

 

“I’m glad it’s you actually, so I can say without hesitation or guilt, _fuck_ ** _right_** _off,_ I was here first.” 

 

Ramsay shoots her a smarmy smile that makes her skin crawl and begins to saunter up to her table. 

 

“I’ve missed you too, Arya. How is my ex doing? Still drowning in Ben & Jerry’s and gin over losing the best dick she’s ever had?”

 

She cuts her eyes at him before flashing a wicked smirk. 

 

“Sansa couldn’t be better. She’s dating Podrick now, and he, _unlike you_ , actually knows how to treat and take care of a woman. Believe me. I hear him taking care of her nearly _every night_. You see, he actually knows how to make her moan and scream. Sounds that I don’t recall ever hearing when you were over.”

 

Despite the mask of smugness covering his face, the tick of Ramsay’s jaw tells her everything she needs to know about how well that piece of information landed and burned.

 

“So you lost your puppy to Sansa? That’s got to hurt, being discarded for your _much_ more attractive sister. I’m available if you ever need comfort to take your mind off her being chosen over you.” He shrugs his shoulders and winks at her. Arya wants to smash his teeth in until her knuckles are bruised and bleeding. 

 

“He was never my puppy. And I have a boyfriend, I don’t need anything from you, except to fucking leave.” 

 

“A _boyfriend_? _You_?” Ramsay laughs, enflaming her anger. “Look, it’s me, sweetie. You don’t have to _lie_ , little miss never been kissed. We’re the only ones here. Speaking of, if you’re looking for someone to take pity on you and finally pop that cherry before you turn into an old daft cow that no one wants to shag, I humbly volunteer. I’m quite good at breaking girls in. I promise to break you in _reeaal_ nice. Have a feeling you won’t cry like Sansa did.” 

 

Arya instantly shoots up from her seat before her sister’s name leaves his lips, knocking her chair back as she picks up her heavy hardcover textbook. Without thinking twice, she quickly lifts it above and over her head and throws it with immense force directly into his face before Ramsay can react. The textbook hits him square on the nose, making a satisfying, sickening _crunch_ sound. Blood pours from his nostrils and into his hands now cupping his face.

 

“ _You fucking cunt!_ ” he bellows. 

 

“ **Get the** **fuck out of here**! Before I claw your _fucking_ eyes out!”Arya yells, uncaring and forgetting momentarily that they’re in the library. 

 

Gendry runs over, face red, blue eyes blazing with fury and grabs Ramsay by the shoulders to quickly spin him around, face to face. Ramsay mistakes his intention for help and immediately complains to him about what she’s done. Until Gendry clutches two fistfuls of Ramsay’s shirt and ruthlessly drags him over to shove his back hard against a wall of shelves, lifting him off the ground. Books rattle and fall around them from the force. Gendry begins speaking in a menacing, gruff tone, the likes of which Arya has never heard coming from him before. 

 

“If you _ever_ fucking speak to her again, I will _destroy you_. Not only will I break the rest of your fucking plug-ugly face, I will personally make sure you’ll be expelled for sexual harassment. _Do you understand me, you miserable fucking cunt_?” Gendry shakes him violently to emphasis his point.

 

Ramsay chokes on blood, unable to verbally respond, and nods his head in understanding. Gendry releases his shirt, dropping Ramsay to the ground like a rag doll. He looks over his shoulder at Arya. 

 

“Are you okay? _Did he touch you_?” Gendry demands, his eyes wild with anger and the need to protect. 

 

Arya shakes her head quickly and tells him no. He nods and looks back down at Ramsay, still on the floor. Kicking his shin, Gendry orders him to get up and leave. He leaps up to his feet and flees as quickly as he can. Ramsay forgoes the lift and takes the stairs instead.   

 

Chest heaving, Gendry turns and rushes to Arya as she does the same. His shaking hands frame her face as he takes a thorough look into her eyes to make sure she’s okay and unharmed. Arya is currently _more_ than okay. She’s dripping wet, knickers wholly soaked through, and is frankly surprised that he can’t smell her arousal yet because she sure can.

 

“That was the _hottest fucking thing_ I’ve ever seen,” Arya pants breathlessly and reaches up to drag his face down to smash her lips against his. He responds instantly and matches her intensity in full. A sudden sense of urgency erupts between them with the all-consuming need to touch and hold one another for reassurance and security. She drags him by the neck, walking backwards to the table and blindly reaches behind her, knocking her book bag and belongings out of the way to jump up and sit, dragging her skirt up around her hips. Their lips and tongues never cease moving during the short journey. Gendry automatically fits himself between her parted thighs. He tries to slow down the pace of their kisses, but she’s not having it. Heart hammering in her rib cage, her left hand tugs his zip down and frantically reaches inside to pull his throbbing length out. Once her hand wraps around his impressive thickness and begins stroking precisely the way she knows Gendry likes it, he wrenches his lips away, panting. 

 

“Are you sure you’re okay? I wanted to rip his fucking throat out.” That dangerous tone is returning to his voice, stoking the fire that’s already been lit low in her pelvis. 

 

“Oh my God, I know, you are _so sexy_ when you’re angry and protecting me,” Arya gushes, smiling brilliantly at him. 

 

He laughs lightly and shakes his head. “What do you mean, you had everything under control, you didn’t even need my help. I couldn’t see too well through the stacks, but did you hit him with that book?” Gendry nods to the floor where her English textbook is lying. 

 

“No, I threw it at him.”

 

“Nice one,” he congratulates, clearly impressed. Then continues, “That’s _incredibly_ sexy of you.” 

 

“Throwing a book at a twat’s face?” she quips. 

 

“Defending yourself, unafraid. With violence.” Gendry bites his lip, heavy eyes scanning her face appreciatively. 

 

Her hand begins to twist on an upstroke, causing a faint whimper to emit from his throat. He leans forward to recapture her lips before leaving a trail of wet kisses down the column of her throat.

 

“I’m going to need you to fuck me now,” Arya informs him breathlessly. “ _My hero_ ,” she adds, goading him. 

 

Gendry takes the bait, moaning ever so softly into her neck, signalling his approval. Singing a much different tune this time around, unlike earlier, before they were interrupted. Together they unbutton and quickly pull his trousers down over his ass. Her knickers are next. He bunches the saturated wisp of fabric in his fist and leans down to stuff them into his bunched up back pocket before reaching between them to direct his cock between her drenched folds. 

 

“ _Feel how wet you’ve made me_?” she whispers into the shell of his ear. 

 

He releases another deep groan laden heavy with pure carnal desire and desperate need, and without hesitation, plunges his thick cock to the hilt inside her in one fell swoop. She honestly tried to stifle her loud gasp, a frugal attempt to remain as quiet as possible, but she hasn’t felt him buried deep inside her in days. Besides, this is _Gendry_ between her shaking thighs, claiming her as his and marking his territory, not giving a single fuck where they are or who finds them. He feels too good, so incredibly thick and deliciously hard, overwhelming her senses. Arya needs this right now more than ever, more than she did earlier or even last night. Right now, she _needs_ to feel their immensely strong connection shared between body, mind, and heart, especially in light of him defending her honour so valiantly. Gendry’s face is hidden against her neck, nipping at the sensitive flesh and leaving behind red welts, she hopes. Arya tries to contain the noises that want to spill forth from her lips, opting to shove her face into his shoulder to muffle the tiny squeaks that can’t help but escape with every punishing thrust. His hips pound roughly into hers, balls smacking against the bottom of her ass. Gripping her thighs so tightly that he’s sure to leave behind handprints, Gendry cants his hips to hit her G-spot with every stroke. The pressure is building outrageously fast in her pelvis, rising to a vibrant crescendo, ready to escalate and crash against the ceiling. 

 

“ _I love how you fuck me. I love how you know exactly how to fuck me, what I need, what I wa-aant,_ ” Arya whispers harshly, digging her nails into his back. 

 

A low growl rumbles in his chest as he fucks her harder, hitting her deeper, beads of sweat running down his temple. She feels his cock grow thicker. He’s close, too. And knowing that is pushing her over into sweet, delightful oblivion.  

 

“ _Gen-Gendry, oh God, I’m gonna-I’m-“_

 

He sinks his teeth deep into her neck, snapping his hips, and together they free fall into the most intense euphoria either has ever experienced to date. They both let slip a half dozen stifled moans, no longer able to silence themselves as he spills, filling her with his come. She thoroughly coats him in return with her gushing arousal, marking him as much as he has done to her. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my loves!! This picks up right where chapter 17 left off with our favorite couple in the library. 
> 
> New tag has been added: Menstrual Sex. Why? Because that's real life, boo! I've gone out of my way to depict it as honestly as possible without going into unnecessary gross detail. For all you ladies who might be squeaked out by period sex, you should know that it actually helps SHORTEN your period! #FACTS
> 
> I appreciate every single one of you who reads and comments on my story!
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Gendry slumps into her arms, his full length buried to the hilt. She releases a soft _whoosh_ of breath upon gathering the weight of his bulky, muscular frame. He swallows and tries to still his breathing, as though that will make him lighter. Veins throbbing with endorphins are delaying the inevitable _what the fuck have I done?_ moment that is sure to accost him eventually. He pulls his hips away, slipping wetly from out of her vice like grip. Arya’s face carries a gorgeous dazed look that leaves no room for doubt in how it earned a coveted spot there, stroking his male ego in the process. If they weren’t currently at the library, he’d be tempted to take her all over again and wrench a couple more orgasms out of her to make up for declining Arya’s visit last night. Instead, he forces his hand to dig out her knickers from his back pocket and hand them to her to sop up his leaking spend. She takes them with an appreciative grin and wiggles back into the pair whilst hopping off of the table. Gendry lifts his trousers up and tucks himself away, then cups his groin to dry his softening cock and dark curls that are covered in a sheen of their combined fluids. 

 

The fifth floor is silent once more, save for their slowing breaths and rustle of clothing as they make themselves presentable again. It’s dawning on Gendry in the throes of his waning orgasm how lucky they are that no one decided to visit this floor just mere moments ago. Looking around their surroundings, he realizes full well that he should be more concerned about his utter lack of regard. And wonders when precisely that _what the fuck have I done?_ the moment will hit him. Raging, mindless lust that Arya can all too easily invoke within him, mixed with his own greedy self-indulgence, is to blame for his increasing rebelliousness as of late. When faced with weighing logic up against being in Arya’s presence, the former ceases to exist. As though a spell has been cast. He can’t help it if she radiates pheromones, magic, and sex, and far be it from Gendry to ignore her powerful magnetism when he is the reason she radiates at all. He hasn’t been able to drown or dampen his growing need to devour her on sight, a need that dawned the moment they crossed boundaries long ago. Nor does he find himself wanting to douse it, even in light of their risky behaviour. To be frank, Gendry hasn’t felt this alive or youthful in years. It’s quite an addictive feeling. So is being in love.

 

Arya departs with a kiss in search of the loo, leaving him to pick up the books that had fallen to the floor in the aftermath of pinning Ramsay against the wall. He distracts himself from thinking about the earlier altercation by focusing on the titles of every book he’s picking up. When she returns, Gendry hands her a hardback he found with a request for her to check it out from the library on his behalf. 

 

“ _The Storm Kings: A History_ ’?” Arya reads the title. 

 

“Yeah, it’s cracking. Thought I could read my favourite bits to you in bed this weekend. _Will I_ get to see you this weekend, or will you be too busy training?” 

 

He leans forward and plants a kiss on her forehead. She looks up from the book and stands on her toes to return the kiss to the underside of his chin. On her way back down, Arya replies, “Of course. Do you have any plans for your birthday on Saturday?” 

 

Gendry’s eyebrows rise to his hairline. “Shit, yeah, it’s on Saturday, inn’t? I completely forgot.” Her smile grows, and so does his heart. He laughs lightly. “I don’t have any plans other than visiting my mate Davos. He’s an older Irish geezer. Taught me how to forge. And uh, kinda helped raised me too, kinda like a father figure, I guess, but _more_ of a mate. That make any sense?” Upon seeing Arya’s eager nod, he continues. “We usually meet up at the pub for a pint, but that’s it. I can move that to any day, though. Hopefully, I’ll be seeing you instead? Starkers, perhaps?”

 

She grins sarcastically, silently poking fun at him for needlessly phrasing that as a question. “What would you like to do besides the obvious?”

 

Gendry shrugs his shoulders and takes a deep breath. On an exhale, he offers, “I really don’t care to be honest. I guess I’d like to get away, get out of town with you. That’d be nice, yeah?” She smiles and agrees. “Maybe somewhere out in the country? To get away from people, get a break from the city. I wouldn’t know where to go, though.” 

 

Arya thinks about it for a moment. “I know of a few places off the top of my head. Do you like camping?” 

 

He racks his brain, trying to remember whether he’s ever actually been camping before, and tells her as much. Enthusiastic glee erupts across Arya’s face. 

 

“One of my favourite camping spots is up north in Durham, there’s a beautiful waterfall, and I know of some lovely spots where we can get away with setting up camp without having to go to a camping site thirty minutes away! We’d be _totally alone_ with no one around to bug us. It’s only a five hour drive, just have to take the A1 all the way up.” 

 

Gendry has never had the opportunity or desire to go camping, and it wouldn’t necessarily be his first choice, but the excitement in her eyes and voice alone has him convinced. 

 

“Yeah, that sounds brilliant! What supplies should I pick up? I haven’t got anything I don’t think.” 

 

“Don’t worry about it, I have everything we could possibly need. We’ll just have to stop by my house in Sheffield on the way up.” 

 

“Sheffield? I thought your parents live in London?”

 

“They do, but they kept the house I grew up in. That’s where all our dogs stay with Hodor, he looks after them and the house.” 

 

Upon seeing the flash of concern in his eyes, Arya rushes to answer his unspoken question. 

 

“Hodor has worked for my family since before I was born, he’s good people. And very loyal to me.” 

 

Gendry snickers, and reaches for her hip to encourage her closer. “Will he be the only one there? Or will I need to hide in the trunk?” 

 

She rolls her eyes at him again, and playfully swats at his chest, telling him it’ll be fine and proving it with a gentle, lingering kiss before Gendry has to return to his office to finish grading exams. 

 

••

 

_**Friday, 3 May 2019** _

 

 

Gendry flies down the stairwell with a book bag and cool box filled with food, ale, and a bottle of expensive Bordeaux he received as a Christmas gift but has been waiting for a good occasion to open. Outside on the curb awaits Arya in her 1977 green Mercedes convertible. Even though Gendry's car is a 2008, her's is in excellent condition, so they agreed it was the safer choice for their road trip today to High Force Waterfall in northern England. The extra large boot will also be helpful when they pick up supplies. It's Friday afternoon, and since he has no more exams to dole out, he's skiving off work today at Arya's behest to get an early start on their weekend away together. Not that she had to try very hard to convince him. After three nights apart, he's ravenous to see her. Gendry rushes to her car to limit the amount of time they're potentially seen together in broad daylight just in case there are lurking eyes afoot. He throws open the back passenger door and deposits the cool box into the back seat, then quickly makes his way to the front, lips wrapped around hers in hello before his door shuts. Arya hits the accelerator, giggling against his lips before returning her eyes to the road and settles back into her seat. He joins in her laughter and reaches behind him to tug his seat belt on. 

 

"'Ello, luv," Gendry drawls and reaches his hand out to rest on her upper thigh where her frayed tiny shorts end and her stocking clad quads begin. His fingertips graze maddeningly slow, back and forth across the expanse of her black stockings. 

 

Arya grins brilliantly, shifting her alluring grey eyes from him to the road and back again. Leading him to beg what's on her mind. 

 

"Nothing! I just missed you," she tells him with the same wide grin, eyes never dimming. Her penetrative and adoring gaze inspires summersaults in his stomach.

 

They spend the first leg of the trip catching up over the events of the last two days that wasn't already discussed over text. He learns that Sansa and Podrick had their first row, but Arya isn't concerned and predicts they'll make up before the end of the weekend. Gendry shares with her that there's a glass blowing demo by an acclaimed artist happening soon at the London Glassblowing Studio that he'd like to check out and is delighted when she immediately says she wants to go with him before he has the chance to ask. After spotting the third yawn, Gendry orders her to pull over at the next petrol station so they can switch. It takes him 13 minutes to adjust the manual mirrors with her help, not to mention adjusting her seat to fit his long legs, all the while taking the piss out of her for having quasi-midget dimensions. He earns several well deserved smacks along his upper arm and shoulders for that. 

 

Once they're out of the city, driving along the scenic stretch on the A1, they take turns sharing their favourite songs. Arya is the DJ, playing whatever tune he calls out with her Spotify account on her phone and using a wireless speaker she brought that is resting on the dash. They crank the windows down to allow the crisp, spring air in; their voices get lost in the wind while singing along to the chorus of 'California Über Alles' by Dead Kennedys at the same time unprovoked. Arya unbuckles her seatbelt to slide over and cuddle into Gendry’s side as he quietly sings all the words to the Oasis classic ‘Talk Tonight’ after sharing with him that it's her emotional bandaid song she listens to whenever she’s stressed out or having a bad day. They hold hands, sing out of key on purpose, argue over the map when they lose their signal for GPS, and throw popcorn into one another’s hair. Gendry hasn't been on many road trips with other people, let alone girlfriends, but he thinks they're doing it right. 

 

Arya kicks her Adidas trainers off mid-journey and leans back into his chest, thighs spread, one leg perched out of the passenger window. The last couple of times he looked down, he saw her long eyelashes laid against the top of her cheeks, phone limp in hand. He drives with one hand on the steering wheel, an arm wrapped around his sleeping girl, and allows himself a moment to think, _how did we get here?_ It feels like it was just yesterday when Gendry was bantering with his new pain in the arse first-year student who, albeit very attractive and funny, wouldn't stop challenging him on absolutely everything. And now, she's snuggled up to him as he drives her car on a road trip together that will most definitely culminate in multiple, thorough shaggings in a tent and under the open sky for the gods and all to see. 

 

A more gigantic leap, Gendry knows of none. 

 

He would have bet against and lost an exorbitant amount of quid if you had told him back in August that he would not only end up shagging but also falling hard for one of his students before the end of the school year. There was a time when he couldn't wrap his mind around stories you'd hear once in a while on the news or through gossip in professional circles about a professor getting caught with a student. He couldn't understand the thought process that must have led these educators to risk their livelihood for what he assumed was just a cheap thrill. It wasn't a situation he ever feared for himself since he perceived it to be so abstract in its concept. 

 

Gendry understands now. 

 

While Arya kips in the cradle of his arm, he ruminates over the steps that lead them here. Every left turn they took instead of right. Every minute decision, word, and action that has brought them together rather than kept them apart, contained by the boundaries they're meant to respect. Why didn't they respect them? What brought them together to meet under these conditions? Why now and not four years later after she's graduated or another time altogether? Falling in love is such a mad and baffling experience Gendry has come to learn rather quickly. It follows no rules. It happens when you least expect it and at the most inconvenient time. It's wild and untamable, like fire. It can sustain you, keep you warm and alive. And if you're not careful, it can easily consume you, burn you, be used against you, and drive you mad. 

 

But it doesn't matter if they are your student and a decade younger, and you're simply not supposed to, _you can't help who you fall in love with_. 

 

If you could, would it still be love? Would it still be organic? 

 

Gendry suspects, perhaps not.

 

That's where he lands on the subject when Arya rouses from sleep with twenty minutes to go before they reach her childhood home. Heavy lids blink several times before her sterling grey irises search for his. As soon as he can spare a glance from the road and their eyes meet, a sleepy yet ravishing smile splits her face, reminding him how easy she makes falling in love.

 

••

 

“Arya, you complete brat, you said this was a house,” Gendry complains once Winterfell Manor appears over the horizon. 

 

Nose adorably scrunched, brows furrowed and eyes darting between him and the house in question, Arya exclaims, “What do you mean, it _is_ a house!”

 

He sighs loudly and cuts his eyes at her while they make their way down the driveway that seems to be miles long. 

 

“It’s a huge fuck off _mansion,_ is what it is. Am I even dressed smart enough to be here? Or is Hodor going to set the dogs on your chav of a boyfriend?” 

 

Immediately she rolls her eyes at him and slaps a hand across his left pec to quickly twist his nipple before he can react and stop her. Gendry yelps and swats her hand away while she laughs. 

 

“It may look impressive from the outside, but it’s just a normal gaff inside,” she promises. 

 

As the gaff in question comes into full view, Gendry’s eyes take in the looming brick mansion that is almost wholly enveloped in lush green ivy that appears to have been climbing the walls of the estate for years. The property is surrounded by trees with a creek running through the backyard and meticulously landscaped grounds as far as the eye can see. He’s visited posh historic buildings and estates on school field trips before that look awfully similar to the one his girlfriend grew up in. And on those trips, never once did Gendry imagine he’d ever find himself in the position of arriving at a house like this with the affluent homeowner’s daughter on his arm.

 

After instructing him to park in front of the garage where her camping gear is stored, Arya sends a quick text on her phone before stepping out of the car. He follows her lead and stands next to the car after shutting his door when he looks over and sees her also standing, head bowed, and texting again. Unsure of where to go, Gendry turns in a slow circle instead, eyes scanning the gorgeous verdant scenery surrounding them. 

 

“There she is!” Arya exclaims happily. Gendry turns back around to see the most enormous grey and white beast he’s ever laid eyes on that appears to be more wolf than dog, coming through an open gate from the backyard and galloping at full speed. 

 

“Uh, Arya? Thought you said he wasn’t going to set the dogs on me?” he begins to ask nervously. 

 

His question goes ignored, but since Arya keeps speaking in an excited high pitch voice to the delightfully fluffy monster that is hurtling towards her like a freight train, he tries not to panic. She runs to meet the dog halfway when it leaps into her arms, easily knocking Arya down to the ground. The dog dwarfs her in size and height while standing on its hind legs, which has him concerned. Without even thinking, Gendry’s feet take several steps forward, intending to rush over to her but soon stops in mid-stride when he hears Arya bursting with laughter and endearing giggles as she hugs her beloved pet, gladly accepting sloppy kisses covering her entire cheek. He can’t help but smile and laugh at the two of them together. Eventually, Arya stands back up and dusts herself off. That’s when the dog notices Gendry. 

 

“This is Nymeria,” Arya introduces while scratching her behind the ear. “I promise she’s friendly, but it takes her a while to warm up to new people. Come here, but slowly.” She motions for him to walk over. 

 

Gendry approaches carefully as Nymeria continues to cock her head at him, curious. Her nostrils are flaring before he’s made it halfway over, sniffing the air to ascertain who he is. When he’s just a couple feet away, Arya reaches for his hand and offers Nymeria the back to smell, which she does with great interest. 

 

“Nymeria, this is Gendry. We fancy him a lot.” 

 

His eyes connect briefly with Arya’s, and she smiles at him flirtatiously, making him blush and grin back. The moment is interrupted abruptly when Nymeria decides to probe deeper in her research of her girl’s new friend by shoving her giant wet snout against Gendry’s crotch. He grunts and cringes, trying desperately to fight against the urge to make any sudden movements. Arya laughs while trying to drag Nymeria’s face away, but she’s insistent. She sniffs his jeans, trainers, circles around him, and sticks her snout in his arse, managing to make Gendry release an unmasculine shriek, causing Arya to double over in laughter. But then something magical happens. After her thorough inspection, Nymeria shoves her head beneath Gendry’s hand, demanding a rub. He and Arya both take notice and look down while he begins to softly pet her. And then Nymeria proceeds to surprise them both by giving him a toned-down version of the same greeting she just gave Arya. Tail wagging, she jumps up to lean against Gendry’s chest with her two front paws and gives him numerous kisses on the face. Now he’s the one laughing and speaking in baby talk while Arya stands in shocked silence, watching the two of them acting like long lost friends. 

 

“Nymeria!” Arya calls out in a mock scandalized tone. “What a hussy you are!”

 

“Don’t slut shame her!” he jokes back, getting another guffaw out of Arya.

 

“I can’t believe it! She’s never, _ever_ reacted that way before to anyone she’s just met. Do you have bacon in your pocket?” she teases, her eyes narrowing at him in humorous suspicion.

 

“If I had bacon in my pocket, _you_ would have eaten it already on the way here. I think she probably smells you on me and vice versa,” Gendry offers with a wink as he kneels down to continue scratching the scruff behind Nymeria’s ears when she jumps back down.

 

“Either that or she has good taste in men like her mum.” Arya walks closer to join in on the lovefest.

 

“That, too,” he agrees and allows himself an arrogant smirk. “Is she a Siberian Husky?”

 

“No, but close! Alaskan Malamute.”

 

“Ah, that explains why she’s massive!”

 

“Yeah, they’re descendants of wolves.” Speaking of which, Arya shoots him her best wolfish grin.

 

“Oh yeah? A wolf for my little wolf?” Gendry asks Nymeria, then smiles back at her. With both hands still submerged in fur, he leans toward Arya for a kiss. Before he can get close enough, her smiling eyes shift away over his shoulder, and her face lights up with recognition.

 

“Hey!” she greets with a wave while standing back up. Gendry looks over his shoulder and sees an incredibly tall older bloke with a full bushy salt and pepper beard. The man smiles kindly, and waves at Gendry, then looks back at Arya and proceeds to quickly move his hands and lips silently. Confused, Gendry stands up and sees Arya also moving her hands and lips without speaking. It takes him a moment to realize that they are speaking in sign language to one another. Yet another interesting fact about his girl that he didn’t know yet. He watches in awe at how fast her hands fly in communication with Hodor, clearly impressed. If he had to guess, Arya probably learnt BSL when she was a child. They continue to speak to one another and occasionally glance at Gendry at the same time with secretive smiles on their faces. Heat begins to flush his chest, rising up his neck. 

 

Arya then speaks out loud for his benefit. “This is Gendry,” she signs to Hodor. “Gendry, this is Hodor. He’s been our estate manager since my eldest brother Robb was born.”

 

Gendry turns toward Hodor to offer him a warm smile and a firm handshake. The larger man’s hand nearly engulfs his own. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hodor,” he greets. Hodor, in return, nods his head with a wide grin. “I’m sorry I don’t know sign language-Arya, can you tell-“

 

But Hodor laughs and signs to Arya, who translates for Gendry. “He can read lips, you’re fine,” she explains with a soft chuckle. 

 

 _Oh. Of course, he can_ , Gendry thinks to himself, feeling embarrassed. Hodor signs again to Arya before turning back towards the house. This time, Arya responds verbally. “Lovely, will do. Cheers, Hodor!” Gendry takes her cue and also waves goodbye next to her. When the gentle giant departs, Arya slips her arm around Gendry’s and begins leading him towards the garage. 

 

“You know sign language then? You cheeky minx, you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he playfully teases. 

 

Arya smiles at him. “We had to learn as kids in order to talk to him. It’s not terribly hard, but I caught on more quickly than the rest, whereas our kid Rickon struggled like mad.” 

 

“You never cease to surprise and impress me, Stark.” 

 

They’re now walking through the door to the garage, and as soon as Gendry spots a clean wall, her back is shoved against it with his lips on hers. His hands encircle her hips and travel down to grip her plump ass, bringing her hips flush against his so she can feel his burgeoning erection. While he nibbles on the sensitive skin of her neck, leading his way to her collar bone, Arya lowers her voice and shares with him, “Not only has Nymeria and myself fallen under your spell, but now so has Hodor.” 

 

His lips still and head rises from her neck. “Sorry, excuse me?”

 

Arya’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. “He thinks you’re incredibly fit.” She wiggles her eyebrows for extra emphasis. “Congratulated me, too. Told me well done.” 

 

Gendry doesn’t know what to do with that information other than laugh humbly. “Aw, I’m sure he was just being nice,” he deflects.

 

“Nope, he’s gay. He knows what he’s talking about.” She reaches down to cup his ass and pushes him back into her hips. They smile into the kiss. 

 

“Sooo…that mean he’s going to keep our secret from your parents and many brothers for the time being?” 

 

“He would have anyway, but it definitely helps that you’re so pretty.” 

 

Gendry’s cheeks have never been redder. 

 

 

••

 

 

After indulging in a quick snog, they hit the road shortly after loading the car with all manner of camping supplies in order to make it to High Force Waterfall in time while there’s still daylight to assist them in setting up camp. As they were getting ready to leave, it became increasingly apparent that Nymeria had grown quite fond of Gendry and wanted neither of them to go. Which is how she ended up in the back seat travelling with them. 

 

 _“I can’t say no to that face, Arya!”_ he had told her when suggesting they bring her along.

 

Gendry is behind the wheel once more with his girls in tow, driving through the entrance to the park. He follows Arya’s instructions that lead them off the beaten path towards a clearing she’s familiar with, which is located near the waterfall. 

 

“Here! Stop here, this is perfect!” Arya commands. He couldn’t agree more. They’ve found themselves in a cosy clearing that has a natural canopy of trees hanging overhead, with a stunning view of the roaring waterfall. What’s even better, there’s not a soul around to disturb their solitude. They’re also free to roam naked if they want to, which Gendry has a feeling will happen more than once this weekend. Nymeria runs off into the woods as they make quick work of unloading the boot and setting up their tent before the sunsets. They finish with twenty minutes of sunlight to spare, so Arya grabs his hand and carefully guides him to the jagged rocks that surround the waterfall so they can watch the breathtaking sunset. Gendry sits on top of a tall rock with Arya standing between his legs, her elbows resting on his muscular thighs while they watch the sun disappear into clouds of purple, grey, and pink behind the magnificent thunderous waterfall. He takes a deep breath, his nostrils filled with the scent of fresh moving water, wet earth, pine, and Arya. 

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” Gendry mutters to himself, not realizing he’s said it out loud. She slowly turns around, eyes bright, and biting her upturned lip. She gently cups his face, bringing him down for a soft kiss, and he knows that it translates to _thank you_. 

 

“Best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten. Thank you for bringing me here,” he whispers, nuzzling her cheeks with his nose.

 

A devilish gleam illuminates her eyes. “Help me build a bonfire, and then you can unwrap your _next_ birthday present,” Arya playfully suggests while tugging on the zip of her hoodie. 

 

He takes her face into his hands and kisses her deeply, invading her lips with his tongue and pours every ounce of gratitude he has for her into her lips. They hurry back to their campsite, where Gendry works on gathering rocks to create a placement for their bonfire, while Arya busies herself with setting up a full-size air mattress inside the tent with an air pump. He builds a massive fire, layering the logs of wood they brought with them and stuffing bundled old newspapers at the bottom for kindling. When she finishes with the air mattress, Arya walks over to lay down a thick navy blanket on a soft patch of grass nearby and stands next to him, hands held out in front of her, admiring the heat and flames. Gendry can feel the waves of anticipation and giddiness rolling off her, and wonders if she can feel the same coming from him. After a few moments of staring into the fire, she grows impatient and begins to unbutton her shorts.

 

“Ay up, me duck, I’ll unwrap my gift myself, thank you very much,” Gendry chastises, swatting her fingers away, making her grin naughtily. As soon as his fingertips dig into the band of her shorts, an electric current of chaotic need that has been bubbling under the surface all day surges through both of them. They begin tearing each other’s shirts off, frantically undressing one another while Gendry encourages her to come sit in his lap on top of the blanket next to the fire.

 

Once she shakes her ankle free from her black stockings and knickers, Arya excitedly turns to swing a leg over to straddle him. He prepares for her landing by quickly shucking off his jeans before grasping her by the hips. Gendry tries to tug her down into his lap, but she remains standing upright on her knees, forcing him to straighten his spine and raise his chin to receive her kiss. His cock is completely engorged, jutting upward between them. Desperate to touch her, a well-knit forearm snakes its way across her warm, naked back to cradle her head, while Gendry’s free hand forsakes his usual caresses along her inner thigh in lieu of cupping her wet core straight-away. He digs the heel of his palm against the top of Arya’s mound, where springy brown curls frame her pink clit. Out of habit, he swallows her loud gasps, forgetting momentarily they’re free to share their ecstasy with the crisp night air and sky above. Diligent fingers part slick folds, spreading her open and pulling a needy mewl from her sweet lips. Arya tilts her pelvis against his hand, trying to coax one of his stroking digits inside her as she holds his face between both hands. He satisfies her inaudible request by dipping his finger in to the second knuckle but quickly retracts it to slide back up and circle the perimeter of her swelling clit with a generous amount of her wetness. Teasing without mercy. Arya releases his lips so she can snuggle the side of her cheek against his; strands of wild brunette hair catch in his reddish stubble like velcro. 

 

“ _Ooohh, fuck, please,_ ” she moans into his ear. Her hips gyrate forward and back to encourage the pad of his finger to brush directly over her clit. But he desists and continues his circling motion without caressing it. 

 

“ _What do you want_?” Gendry whispers huskily with a subtle smile. 

 

She bites the corner of her upturned lip and answers silently with a jerk of her hips, rutting against his hand. Gendry’s afraid that isn’t a good enough response for him at the moment. He needs to _hear_ exactly what she wants, to listen to her voice raspy with desire for him and him alone. It’s only been 2 days since they last had sex, and before that, 4 very long days. But after having made the drastic jump from seven months of self-imposed celibacy, to having copious amounts of mind-boggling sex in a short amount of time with the very woman who inspired his abstinence to begin with _(not to mention the innumerable subsequent wank sessions,)_ a single day now without shagging Arya feels like the equivalent of a week in length. Gendry full-on acknowledges how ridiculously spoilt he’s become already.

 

With the tip of his middle finger, he lightly traces her wet entrance that is overflowing with arousal. Arya’s ribcage begins to expand and deflate with panting breath, causing her gorgeous plump breasts to brush up and down his chest. A gust of chilled wind courses through the trees, enveloping them and leaving gooseflesh and tightened, hard nipples on them both in its wake, despite the roaring bonfire just a few feet away. Gendry wiggles his face against her jaw and neck to bring his lips closer to her ear, purposely scratching her delicate pale skin with his facial hair to leave behind red welts, marking her. The gentle torment evokes a faint whimper and a sudden thrust from her pelvis, which causes his finger to slip briefly inside her. A relieved moan turns into an aggravated growl coming from the back of her throat when he retrieves it. 

 

“ _Tell me_ ** _exactly_** _what you want me to do to you, my little wolf_.” 

 

Gendry surprises himself with how deep and vehement his voice sounds. Interestingly, he notices that his use of a commanding tone causes Arya’s thighs to tremble just a bit in response. She combs her fingers through the soft fluffy locks that now fall a bit to the side of and occasionally over his forehead. He skipped his barber appointment not long ago, inspired by a compliment Arya paid him recently. Scooting closer on his lap, her left hand threads slowly through the hair on the back of his head, starting from the nape of his neck. Her hand glides further up, dragging her blunt black lacquered nails against his scalp, and lulling his eyes closed. As soon as she reaches the crown where his hair is longer, she grips a fistful to tenderly tilt his head back and to the side for her to lean down and speak softly into his ear. Her provocative _sotto voce_ makes the hairs on Gendry’s muscular arms stand on end. And compels his hardness to thicken and twitch against her taut stomach, a result of her erotic whispers titillating his sensory meridian response.  

 

“ _I want you to fill me up with that big cock of yours,_ ” Arya whispers into the shell of his ear right before licking the rim softly and placing a gentle, open mouth kiss behind the lobe. It inspires chills to shoot down the side of his neck and arm. “ _And I want you to show me exactly_ ** _how much_** _you’ve missed fucking your girlfriend.”_  

 

An arrogant grin spreads wide across his face, and her lips return to kiss the crinkles around his eyes that his smile creates. He suspects he’ll never tire of hearing her state so bluntly that she wants his cock, nor ever grow bored of hearing Arya refer to herself as his girlfriend. Returning the gesture, Gendry reaches up and gently tugs on a handful of tousled hair to pull her face away from his and look into her gorgeous sterling grey eyes where orange flames flicker in the endless black pools staring back at him. 

 

With a raised brow and cocky smile, his voice drawls tauntingly, “ _I’ve missed fucking my girl something awful. You sure you can handle it, Stark_?”

 

Without warning, Gendry shoves two fingers deep inside her dripping wet cunt effortlessly, shocking Arya with the sudden intrusion. Her surprised gasp ends with a loud, throaty cry as she throws her head back when his fingers hit her cervix. She digs her nails into his brawny shoulders, shoving her perky tits against his face for him to gorge on. The combination of boundless beauty before him, along with the highly arousing sounds Arya is making, causes pre-ejaculate to emerge along his slit. Once he feels the wet lips of her sex meet his knuckles, he curls both fingers towards himself, extracting a loud curse and deep groan from Arya within milliseconds of the manoeuvre. She begins clawing helplessly at the back of his neck, breathless while Gendry sucks heartily on a beautiful pink nipple. Pushing her forehead down against his, she rolls her pelvis in continuous sensual waves, testing the tensile strength of his wrist. His little minx is riding his hand with the same passion and assiduity she uses when topping him.

 

“ _Unnhh-AHH! YES, yesss, please, I can-I can Gen-AHHHhhhh!-please, please love, I can handle it, plea-ea-ease,_ ” Arya begs him in whimpers and whines, nearly sobbing from overwhelming and profuse pleasure as he rubs tenaciously on her G-spot with no sign of letting up. 

 

Rather than heed his base instincts, Gendry finds himself captivated with the sound of Arya’s voice as she begs. Staring at the furrow of her thick brows and half-closed eyes lost in rapture, he intends to coerce more pleading cries from this gorgeous woman he has the good fortune of calling _his girlfriend_. Gendry is still unaware of what he did to deserve the right. Re-extending his fingers proves a tad tricky, as the walls surrounding his digits have swollen considerably from his ministrations, making her even tighter. Nonetheless, he manages to deliver a rapid series of determined thrusts with his hand, preparing her sweet pussy for what’s to come. Arya’s face is pressed against the side of his neck now, holding on to his shoulders as she shamelessly moans _more, more._ She has to brace her thighs by digging her knees into the blanket and grass beneath. Her lips find the spot on his neck that drives him wild with lust and latches on to a salty tendon with the same pressure and enthusiasm she exhibits when sucking him to completion. His eyes close at the sensation while his hips give an involuntary thrust, making the head of his cock slide wetly across the skin of her lower belly above her curls. Spurred on by her passionate cries, Gendry fingers her more forcefully, heightening the erotic sound of her gushing wetness between his fingers. The muscles of his forearm and bicep bulge with exertion; a pool of sweat develops in the inner crease of his elbow. Abruptly, Arya groans loudly and reaches down to halt his hand, instilling fear in him that he’s been too rough. 

 

Right as a frantic apology leaves Gendry’s lips, she interrupts him.

 

“ ** _Fuck me. NOW._ **” Arya emphasizes her demand by releasing his wrist to wrap her dainty fingers around his thick shaft, giving him three firm strokes. 

 

He nods his head hurriedly in agreement before bringing her back down for a kiss, and slips his wet fingers out, causing a muffled woeful groan to emanate from her throat. Arya hovers over his towering girth, ready to impale herself as he grabs his cock to steady it for her. When their lips pull apart, she turns to leave a trail of kisses along his jaw, while he looks down to guide the tip. Just then, a log in the fire creates a loud _POP!_ sound, producing a bright, tall flame. The light cast from the mini combustion illuminates Gendry’s hand wrapped around his thickness, showing bright red blood covering his middle and index fingers. With his mind suffused in a fog of lust, he panics for a brief moment before it dawns on him what has happened.

 

Arya seems to instinctively detect something is amiss. 

 

“What is it?” she lazily inquires in between the slow kisses she’s leaving down the side of his neck, now making her way across the swell of muscle laid over his shoulder. She presses her wet folds against his weeping cockhead, dragging her hips lightly, teasing him. A deep moan breaks free from Gendry’s throat as his hips give a restless thrust in return, spreading her lips further apart with his bulbous tip.

 

Remembering her question, Gendry shakes his head unworried and proceeds to nonchalantly wipe his soiled hand on the dark navy blanket they’re sitting atop of. He begins speaking casually, softly.

 

“Nothing, you started your period, s’all. You feel alright?”

 

“ ** _I WHAT_**?!” Arya exclaims next to his ear, making him flinch. With wide eyes, she pulls away and looks down, lifting her hips off of him to reach a hand between her legs. When her fingers come back with a streak of blood, she makes a regretful, embarrassed noise and physically recoils by trying to scoot back away from him. 

 

“ _Hey-hey-hey-hey_ , where you going? _C’mere_ ,” Gendry murmurs softly, going for what he hopes is an alluring yet encouraging tone. 

 

His hands immediately reach forward and grab her by the hips to drag her back into his lap. Arya allows him to move her but doesn’t straddle her hips over his cock, which is still very much erect for her. 

 

Gendry attempts to distract her with his hands drifting along with the flare of her hips, following the indentation of her small waist until each palm is balancing a gorgeous rose tipped breast. He whispers to her, “ _So fucking sexy_.” Getting lost for a moment in marvelling her tits, both hands give a gentle squeeze. They feel firmer and a smidge larger compared to a few days ago when they were together in the library. A soft and disappointed sigh from Arya makes him stop.

 

“Are your tits starting to hurt? I’ll stop, I’m sor-“

 

“Gendry!” she blurts out exasperated but doesn’t remove his hands. So he continues holding them while her head falls back again, this time to release a loud, aggravated groan. And gods help him, all he can think about is shoving her tits together so he can-

 

“This is so embarrassing, I’m sor-“

 

“Wha’? Don’t you _dare_.” Gendry demands quite sternly, taking her by surprise. 

 

“But-“ she stammers before he interrupts again.

 

“Why are you apologizing for something your body does that is completely normal? Stop that shite,” he chides. Gendry shakes his head at her with a sigh, looking into her surprised eyes. 

 

Arya looks cheerfully shocked with a confused smile gracing her features. Until it quickly fades into a disappointed frown.

 

“Talk to me, love.” Gendry gives both breasts that he’s still holding on to an encouraging squeeze. 

 

She takes a deep breath before venting; his hands humorously follow the rise and fall of her breasts. “It’s your birthday, and it feels like it’s been _ages_ since we’ve shagged-“ 

 

Of course, it hasn’t been. But regardless, the statement makes a wild smile blossom on his face to know they both consider 2 days to feel like an exorbitant amount of time to go without sex with one another.

 

“-and I wanted this trip away to be really special for you and us, and I wanted to shag your brains out, _outdoors_! Under the bloody stars and moon! But _now_  I can’t shag you senseless because, _of course_ , my uterus has to fuck up all my plans by deciding NOW would be a brilliant time to start my _fucking_ _period_! And right after I just got over a UTI, and  _for fuck sake_ , why do you keep smiling?!” 

 

She allows her thighs to collapse finally, taking a seat in his lap, and dejectedly tucks her head beneath his chin, arms rising limply to wrap around his waist. Gendry’s amused smile never abates while dragging her closer until they are skin to skin. His cock, which is still achingly hard for her, is trapped between the warmth of their bellies. Once satisfied with how tightly they’re pressed together, he lets his fingertips trail lightly down the ridges of her spine, inspiring a shiver to cascade through her.

 

Gendry takes a risk with the possibility of offending her, to see how tightly she holds on to these societally imposed limitations. 

 

“Who says we can’t shag just because you’re on your period?” 

 

She doesn’t answer right away. Gendry can’t see her face, what with his chin resting on top of her head, but he senses Arya is having a bit of a think. 

 

“Well, I guess…I mean, no one, really. Sansa and my friends all made it sound like it’s just not something you do or that blokes are disgusted by it, _I don’t know_ ,” Arya ends with a clipped tone. As she always does whenever discussing something out of her depth of expertise, which ends up making her feel embarrassed and annoyed.

 

Gendry tries calming her by rubbing up and down her back while his other hand massages her neck. She releases a satisfied moan when her tense muscles begin to loosen. Feeling the moment when her rigid back softens and her pliable body surrenders under his touch makes his cock throb for friction again. His hips begin gently thrusting on their own accord, his cock taking advantage of being trapped between their bellies. Arya snuggles her face against his shoulder until she’s laying her head in the crook of his neck, looking outward into the forest. Gently, she pushes her belly against him. Flirting with him, Gendry realizes. And maybe flirting with the idea of breaking the mould with him.

 

He nuzzles his nose into her hair and takes a deep sniff. Gendry smells bonfire smoke, her lavender and rosemary shampoo, a trace of perfume that has long been sweated off, and the irresistible, one of a kind scent that belongs only to her that he finds both comforting and arousing. 

 

“Arya, I don’t give a _fuck_ if you’re on your period,” he pleads with her on an exhale, speaking into her dishevelled hair. Gendry’s voice is gravelly with unbridled lust as his hips give a more forceful thrust as proof. “ _Please_ , baby, I just want _you._ Unless you’re in too much pain or you just don’t want to-“

 

“No, I’m not in pain, weirdly. I hadn’t even noticed I started,” she cuts him off with a slight shake of her head and plants a gentle kiss on his shoulder. “I just assumed you would definitely not be keen to do _that_.”

 

Gendry lowers his voice, nosing his way to her ear through her hair. “I’m _more_ than keen. Have I gone soft once?” 

 

To prove the merit of his words, he presses on her lower back to bring her even closer and illustrate his point. A soft moan escapes her, which is a good sign. More importantly, her hips undulate in response, pressing her wet lips against the base of his cock.

 

“Mmm, no…you haven’t,” she answers quietly.

 

Arya leans away to turn her head back to face him. Despite the literal evidence that is pressed against her skin, scrutiny still clouds her eyes. 

 

“You seriously don’t care?” she asks, thick brows screwed upward in cynical doubt.

 

Both of his hands abandon her back and neck to now frame her face. They slide up, fingers threading through wild and messy strands of windswept hair. He yanks ever so softly on a fistful to bring her face closer to his. Wanting her to feel his words against her lips so she can’t possibly deny he spoke them.

 

“Darling, you swallow my come when you suck me off. I feast on your _delicious_ pussy like a man dying of thirst. What does it matter if we shag while you’re on your period? We’ve exchanged enough bodily fluids by now, yeah? What’s one more, yeah?” 

 

Arya’s eyes light up from within, and a beautiful smile begins to develop on her lips. He thinks he has her at last, but it falters at the last second.

 

“What about the mess?” 

 

“Sex is supposed to be messy. The messier, the better.”

 

“We’re going to end up looking like we’ve rolled around a crime scene.”

 

“That sounds like fun. I’m up for it.”

 

She looks down and starts idly playing with his chest hair. Her left brow rises ever so slightly. He knows that look. 

 

“Have you…done this before?” 

 

And there it is. Arya’s tone isn’t accusatory. Quite the opposite. It’s timid and radiates uncertainty with just a touch of envy.

 

“No, never,” Gendry promises her and shakes his head. Then lifts her chin, silently requesting to look into her eyes. His face carries a coy expression while asking tenderly, “Will you be my first?” 

 

A beautiful smile begins to flourish across her face, changing not only her features but transmuting her whole aura. It’s the type of smile that can be felt in his chest from merely witnessing it. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and stands back up on her knees to position herself above his hard length. Gendry returns the smile as his hand re-grips his cock to guide his tip home.

 

As her hips sway, feeling her wet folds opening to accommodate his thick head, Arya nuzzles her cheek and nose against his until their lips eventually meet in a soft kiss. 

 

“If you haven’t before, then why now? Why me?” she needlessly asks. Though Gendry has to remind himself that she may honestly not know the answer. He always assumes that she must know how infatuated he is with her. But just like he needs to hear her say aloud specific affirmations, Arya, of course, is no different. 

 

He’s resting against her entrance, spreading it open with just a gentle press. Intoxicated with the feeling of being so close to impaling her on his cock, Gendry’s eyes fight to stay open as he answers. 

 

“Because you’re Arya Stark, you’re _mine_ , and I love everything about you and your gorgeous body. _Everything_.” His hands are roaming, squeezing, and rubbing Arya’s curves as he pours his heart out to her, hoping to convince her of his sincerity. 

 

Her lips part for a follow-up question, which he quells immediately by saying, “And no one can hold a candle to you. No one ever has. I’ve…never wanted to be that intimate with anyone before…until you.”

 

The haze of lust crystalizes into clarity in her eyes as she registers his compliment and admission. Another beautiful smile brightens her face, filling him with relief. Slowly, she drops her weight, allowing her wet lips to spread further around his width, keeping eye contact with him as her body accepts the thick head of his cock. Gendry’s eyes can’t help but flutter closed at the sensation, and groans in unison with her. Halfway down, she struggles. Right at the section of his cock where his girth is at its fullest. She tries to slip down but meets resistance. Arya presumes it’s due from the length of time it’s been since they last had sex, telling him it doesn’t fit. As much as hearing that strokes his ego, Gendry knows while that may be partly to blame, it’s entirely due to her not being able to fully relax to allow him in, still harbouring slight embarrassment. He doubles his efforts in convincing her to let go of her self-consciousness by leaving enthusiastic wet kisses on her neck and breasts, whispering how good she feels into her skin. When Arya begins to respond in kind, he wraps his arms around her and gently thrusts up while simultaneously pulling her down. 

 

Gendry tilts his head to fit against her neck and whispers, “ _It’ll fit, I’ll_ ** _make_** _it fit.”_

 

At that, Arya releases a sexy groan that shoots straight to his groin. Her walls ease up to allow his length to sink in inch by inch as her arousal grows slick, coating him. Her moans vibrate against his lips and tongue on her throat. 

 

“ _That’s a good girl_ ,” he groans appreciatively and rearranges his arms so that one is wrapped around her hips, and the other laid against her spine, hand cupping the back of her head. 

 

“ _Ooh fuck,”_ Arya moans while sliding the rest of the way down until she bottoms out and is resting curls to curls.  

 

They stay wrapped around each other, not moving, taking shallow breaths. Completely sheathed inside her now, he feels no difference compared to Wednesday in the library. She feels absolutely incredible, as always. Just extra wet, which isn’t a bad thing at all as far as Gendry’s concerned. 

 

 _“Love? You alright_? _”_ his voice croaks. 

 

Arya nods her head in the bend of his neck before whispering,  _“Yes, you_? _Are you-“_

 

 _“You feel fucking amazing,_ ” Gendry groans. Her shoulders shake with a soft laugh. 

 

She winds her arms around his shoulders and lifts her hips gently before plunging slowly back down. His eyes roll back in his head. 

 

_“Fucking ‘ell, I’ve missed this. Missed you.”_

 

He hears her giggle happily in response before feeling her lips against his, eyes still closed. Arya begins to oscillate her hips while he’s deep inside her. Completely engrossed in kissing her back and in the feeling of her tight vice-like grip surrounding his shaft, it takes Gendry a few seconds to realize she’s trying to change position. She leans back on one arm for support while lifting a knee to wrap her leg around him. He finally lifts his heavy lids to gaze at her. Holding onto her arsecheeks, he draws his legs in to support her as she leans back on the opposite arm to raise her other knee until both legs are wrapped around his hips, now sitting in his lap. For stability, Arya keeps one arm planted on the ground behind her and grips his hair with the other, drawing him in closer. His fingers dig into her cheeks to control her hips, sliding her up, then guiding her down till they both curse. 

 

 _“Is this-does it feel okay?”_ Gendry whispers in between panting breaths. 

 

“Are you serious? _You feel so fucking good,_ ” Arya answers, breathless, before smashing her lips against his, demanding entry with her tongue. 

 

They moan as the kiss deepens. Using the support of her arm, Arya leans back so she can resume control of her hips. Slowly she rises, then sensually grinds down and repeats the motion over and over till it makes him shudder in intense pleasure. Her skin starts to flush as she picks up the pace, sweat dotting her forehead. He keeps one hand on her ass to help aid her grinding, while the other cups the side of her face. 

 

“You’re so _goddamn_ tight and _wet_ ,” Gendry mutters under his breath, driving his hips up to meet each of her thrusts. Arya gives him a sultry grin and licks her top lip before clenching her inner muscles down on his shaft. 

 

“ _Don’t-don’t do that, fuck, I won’t last-I-fuuuck, Arya, so_ ** _good_** ,” he grunts into her sweaty collar bone right before lifting her up off his lap to swing his leg out from under her and proceeds to lay Arya on her back against the blanket. 

 

His cock remains inside her, never losing their connection while positioning himself between her legs. Their kisses become frantic when Arya lifts her thighs higher around his waist, which tilts her pelvis up and makes him go deeper with every stroke. Gendry takes her slowly, repressing the urge to go harder.

 

She pulls her lips away to tell him, “I’m not fragile, you’re not going to hurt me, love.”

 

“Oh, I know that believe me,” Gendry responds with a wink. Her cunt clenches down on his thickness again. And again. And again. 

 

_“Fuckin’ HELL, Arya, I’m trying to last so I can get you off first, but if you keep doing that-“_

 

“What? You mean this?” she asks in an exaggerated innocent tone and clenches without letting go this time. He presses his forehead against her’s, eyes rolling back in his head again. When she does that, it feels exactly like when she’s coming. Extra tight and pulsating around his cock. 

 

 _“You fucking brat,”_  he hisses with a grin.

 

 _“Show me how much you missed fucking me, birthday boy_.  _I’m all yours for the taking,_ ” she whispers, her tone seductive. There’s a devilish gleam in her eyes to match her wolfish smile. 

 

He narrows his eyes at her, still grinning, and reaches for her hand that is playing with his hair. Spreading her fingers wide, Gendry turns to kiss and playfully lick the inside of her palm before cutting his eyes back to Arya, slamming her hand down on the ground above her head. He holds her hand down and reaches for the other to do the same, with Arya smiling up at him the entire time. Now holding both of her small wrists in one large hand, he begins taking her roughly, thrusting his long thick cock inside her, slamming into her hips repeatedly. She arches with a gasp, back bent, and shoulder blades lifting off the ground. A symphony of loud moans, frantic cries, and flesh slapping against wet skin fills the night air, competing with the song of crickets. Each guttural moan he rips from Arya urges him to fuck her harder into the ground, bottoming out with each thrust. Her sweaty thighs seek purchase, trying desperately to hold on, but keep sliding along his skin. The grip on her wrists tightens as he feels himself begin to teeter off the precipice.Determined to get her off first, Gendry slows his hips and tries to shift to snake his hand between them until she cries out.

 

 _“Don’t! Don’t stop!”_ Arya begs. 

 

He hasn’t finished shaking his head _no_ before she clenches her walls down on his cock and holds. 

 

 _“Fuck!”_ he yells into her collar bone and obeys her command, driving his pelvis into her harder, faster, burrowing himself in her deeper. Fucking her exactly how Gendry has envisioned himself doing in countless dirty daydreams he’s lost himself in during class all school year until his stomach muscles clench, and his balls tighten as the sweetest euphoria known to man fills his veins like a drug administered via IV. He grunts loudly through his release and spills, filling her with his copious warm come and moaning a broken, jagged version of Arya’s name into her sweaty neck. 

 

Before he’s even caught his breath, Arya brings her foot down flat onto the blanket and with a loud grunt, pushes on Gendry’s chest and follows him over until he’s flat on his back next to where she once laid. She gets her bearings, re-positioning her legs to straddle him. He’s still throbbing deep within her incredibly tight pussy.

 

“Good thing you stay hard after,” Arya tells him with a grin, and begins riding him with unrestrained abandon. 

 

She looks glorious with sweat shining on her skin, digging her nails into his heaving pecs with her head thrown back, pale neck long. Arya rides him hard, throwing her hips back onto his cock with every plunge, claiming him. He holds on to her hip and sneaks his thumb over to where they’re joined, rubbing her clit with a light up and down motion until her thighs start to tremble, her toes curl and the frenzied pace of her pelvis begins to stagger. A loud and sexy feminine wail breaks the quiet of night, turning into rough guttural, throaty moans that every straight man has ever hoped to inspire in a woman. Her walls squeeze his thickness with overwhelming strength, pulsating up and down his shaft. It’s nearly enough to make him come undone again. 

 

Arya finally collapses on top of him, chest swelling with an urgent intake of oxygen. Her warm, shaky breath scatters across his damp skin, her messy hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and neck, and currently tickling his nose. They lay there pressed tightly with arms wrapped around one another despite the stifling heat they’ve generated between them, unwilling to let go. Once he goes limp, Arya shifts off him to lay cuddled into his side. He feels his wet heat pour out of her and dribble down, coating his balls.

 

“That was fucking _incredible_ ,” he speaks into her hair and rubs her back. “Thank you so much for giving me a first.” Gendry kisses her forehead, then leaves a line of gentle kisses down the bridge of her nose until she lifts her chin to accept his lips. He pulls back to look into her eyes to make sure she’s okay. They’re shining with unshed tears, but are accompanied by the sweetest smile. 

 

Cupping her cheek, he asks, “What is it, love, what’s wrong?”

 

Her smile blossoms into a full-on grin while two tears escape down her cheeks. His brows furrow with worry, but Arya shakes her head before answering. 

 

“I’m happy. Really, really happy. And I just…feel really close to you right now.” She snuggles deeper into his side and shoves her face into his neck, hand resting over his heart that is swelling with love for her. Gendry feels closer to her as well. More connected. It’s as if he can physically feel the energy between them. It feels warm, like a delicious cup of hot cocoa on a frightfully cold night. 

 

 _So this is what it’s like to allow yourself to be vulnerable with a woman_ , Gendry thinks to himself. It’s taken him 32 years, but he doesn’t regret not doing it sooner. Because Arya deserves all of his first experiences that he can possibly give to her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, loves! This picks up where chapter 18 left off with our favourite couple next to the fire. We learn a bit more about Gendry's past in this chapter, especially regarding his love life prior to Arya. Expect at least one more chapter of their camping trip, and then it's back to the real world and Arya's upcoming competition where Gendry and The Hound finally meet! 
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The sweat covering their flushed skin begins to evaporate, thanks to the bonfire that is dwindling beside them. It's in need of an extra log, now that their hearts are no longer battering against their ribs, and since the temperature has dropped along with the sun. His crotch is still saturated with an intimate mixture of their combined fluids, and he's reminded of the fact when a breeze with bite blows past, skimming their exposed flesh. Gendry eyes the plastic container of wet wipes that are sitting on the other side of the fire next to their tent and pats her arm twice to signify he's about to sit up. Reluctantly she lifts from her position laid across his chest. As he walks around the fire, holding out a flat palm above the flames, he can feel her eyes scanning him from behind. The intensity of her gaze inspires Gendry to lengthen his spine, now standing a tad taller than before, while the muscles that define his arms, chest, and back flex simultaneously out of habit. Since even before their first kiss, Gendry has found himself perpetually making a subconscious effort to peacock for his girl when given the opportunity. After throwing another log onto the fire, he walks back over and catches her heated, admiring stare openly roaming over the expanse of his brawny chest and sculpted abs. The crinkles around his eyes reappear as Gendry smiles, grateful for the long hours spent hammering on his anvil at work and the fruitful results that they've produced. His smile falters, though, when Arya's eyes travel down to his cock, and a sudden wince pinches her lovely features. Certainly, not the expression one wishes to see when their genitals are being scrutinized by their lover.  

 

"It looks like you've either just suffered a botched circumcision, or your horse cock has finally sent me to hospital." 

 

His ability to hold his impressive flex deteriorates quickly as Gendry finds himself doubled over in laughter.

 

"Oh, I bet you'd  _love_   _it_  for your cock to send me to hospital, wouldn't you? That's every man's dream, innit?" Arya teases, her tone sharp. 

 

“ _Of course_  not, daft bint," he admonishes. But despite his chastising tone, his right brow can't help but lift in curious thought. "Although…"

 

"Yeah, that's what I thought." She grabs the wet wipes from him with a smirk as he sits back down next to her, still chuckling. Arya retrieves a wipe, and before he realizes it, she turns towards him, hands unexpectedly in his lap applying the damp cloth to his mound of soiled curly hair. He hisses and sucks his stomach in when he feels the sting of cold moisture when the wipe makes contact with his skin. Her hands still in their pursuit. 

 

"Is this okay?" Her voice is soft and tinged with a sheer haze of concern. 

 

Gendry nods favourably. "Yeah, just cold. You don't have to, I-"

 

"I want to," she whispers before lowering her eyes back down and resuming her thorough cleaning. It makes his heart swell because no woman has ever been this attentive to him before, nor this doting. Cleaning up after sex has never been a joint effort for Gendry with past partners, except for the occasional shared shower. But his experience is limited, as he's only had unprotected sex with one other woman, his last serious girlfriend whom he broke up with three years ago. After a decade of using condoms, he wasn't prepared for how messy the aftermath was going to be, especially for his ex. She developed a yeast infection within their first month of condomless sex and insisted he pull out and come on her stomach or back instead from that point forward during their two-year relationship. Before Gendry could stop tugging and collapse back down onto the bed, she would roll out of the way and be on her feet, walking to the loo every time. She wasn’t much of a cuddler, but that was fine, Gendry worked around that. Until one day, he just didn’t feel like working around it anymore. 

 

Arya, however, scrubs his curls gently at a languid pace, cupping his shaft through the fabric of the wipe while he presses tender, appreciative kisses on her temple. His thumb flicks her extra sensitive and hard nipple, hand squeezing her engorged breast. He finds himself feeling impressed and humbled with how open, and deeply intimate Arya allows herself to be with him, especially considering he’s her first lover. To witness the vulnerability she willingly reveals to him touches Gendry deeply, pouring fuel on an already raging fire that burns within him for her.

 

As his kisses travel down her cheek and over her jaw, she plays with his balls in the palm of her hand and has him so distracted that he hardly jumps when her curious fingers travel past his scrotum and venture briefly over his perineum. Three wipes later, she deems him cleaned, and by the time she tosses them into a discarded shopping parcel used for rubbish, his cock is nearly swollen solid again. He whispers his gratitude into her ear and reaches for the wipes to grab one to return the favour. But she halts his hand's journey to the plastic container and leans in for a quick kiss before telling him she'll be right back. Arya tosses his shirt on over her head; it comes down to her upper thigh when she stands. She walks away with the wipes and a departing smack on her delectable round ass, making her yelp and giggle over her shoulder at him. Before heading back in the direction of the waterfall, she digs through her book bag inside the tent and grabs a flashlight, a small bottle of Dr. Bronner's lavender-scented biodegradable soap and a towel. While she's gone, Gendry relieves himself against a tree nearby where the light from the fire carries far enough for him to see, and throws his boxer briefs back on. He refolds the blanket so they can lay back down on a clean, dry side, and stokes the fire, adding more wood and kindling he picked up off the forest floor earlier when they arrived.

 

Arya returns shortly with a damp towel slung over her shoulder, squealing at Nymeria to stop. The massive dog follows her from behind with a happily wagging tail and her snout trying to bury itself between Arya's naked arsecheeks.

 

"Trying to suss out how naughty you've been?" Gendry calls out.

 

"Yeah, I reckon she knows what's up. And apparently, she likes what she smells." 

 

As they approach closer, Nymeria catches sight of Gendry standing on the other side of the fire and stops in mid-stride, staring at him as though she doesn't recognize him. Her blank stare sends a chill down his spine for a brief, unnerving moment, and has him considering how fast he can run without his shoes on. Luckily an adorable smile appears on her broad face before she begins running over to him, putting Gendry at ease again. Instead of jumping on him like the pace of her gait suggested, Nymeria comes to a skid in front of him and shoves her wet snout against the cotton covering his bulge, taking deep inhales. 

 

“Fucking hell, she  _really_  fancies you. Oi, Nymeria! Stop sniffing my man, you slag! Going to start calling you Jolene after the Dolly Parton song." 

 

" _My man_ ," Gendry chuckles. "It's okay, you can  _both_  share me."

 

"I will share 15% of you with Nymeria, and that is all." 

 

"Deal," he agrees and joins Arya on the blanket after cleaning his hands with a wipe. She's brought over another blanket and a pillow from the tent for them to recline on. After sitting down next to him, she leans back on her elbows to wiggle into a pair of black boy short knickers.

 

"Of course I didn't bring tampons, wasn't expecting this. But luckily, I accidentally packed a couple of my period knickers.

 

" _Period knickers_? What, like, a  _nappy_? Do they work?”

 

" _NO_ , not like a nappy, and yes, they work." 

 

She swats his bicep and sits up to arrange the blanket over them, directing Nymeria where to sit by patting at the space between their legs. Gendry fluffs the pillow behind them before they lean back and nestle their heads together, trying to find the right angle so they can comfortably share it and look up at the stars. Arya reaches under the blanket for his hand and laces her fingers through his. Nymeria walks two tight circles in the small space between them and plops down with a heavy sigh, her large mass taking up more room and ending up laying on top of their legs, keeping them warm. They chuckle in unison, snuggling closer as much as the small mountain of Nymeria will allow.

 

There's a beat of silence as they stare into the universe above them.

 

"You're wearing a nappy."

 

"I am  _not_!"

 

Gendry laughs, then begs her for forgiveness when she starts pinching the highly sensitive soft skin on his underarm, high up near his armpit. 

 

Arya lets go. "Hush and look at the stars." 

 

"Yes, ma'am."

 

Nymeria sighs. 

 

"Should we turn our mobiles off to conserve the battery for when we drive back?"

 

"Won't matter, I brought a solar power charger." 

"Oh, wow, well, look at you, Ms Hot Stuff."

 

"Shut up."

 

"Ms 21st Century. Ms-"

 

"If you call me a millennial next-"

 

"Which you  _are_ -"

 

"I will slap you."

 

" _Yay_?"

 

"No. No yay." 

 

"Fine. The bee's knees." 

 

"Stop it." 

 

"How are you feeling?" Gendry lifts the hand that is holding hers and gestures towards her lower belly. 

 

"I'm  _goooood_ ,  _baby_ ,” Arya replies in a humorously overt sexual tone, clearly misinterpreting his question.

 

"That's smashing, but I meant your period." 

 

" _Oh_. I'm fine! I feel good for now."

 

“What are your periods usually like?”

 

"They vary from manageable to horrid. I never know what I'm going to get."

 

"That's comforting."

 

"It seems orgasms prevent cramps though, or at least they did tonight. So, you know, you have an important job to do while we're here this weekend.” 

 

"And it is the greatest honour of my life. I take my job very seriously."  


 

“And my ovaries, thank you, love."

 

Gendry tugs on her hand, flirting back. He then directs his attention to the stars again, where he sees a flash of brilliant blue streak across the sky and disappear as quickly as it came.

 

"Did you see that?! A shooting star!"

 

"No! Where!"

 

"It came from over there, see the Milky Way?" He points up at the sky and adjusts his head next to hers so that they're both at eye level.

 

" _Oh no_ , I missed it. You have to close your eyes and make a wish!" She squeezes his hand, excitedly underneath the blanket.  

 

His lids drop closed at her command, and his mind instantly conjures an image that has been visiting Gendry’s psyche as of late. He doesn’t know how to describe it, other than to say that on occasion recently, a flash of a scene will suddenly fill his mind’s eye, usually whilst daydreaming or not paying attention to anything at all. And while it feels real like a bonafide memory, the truth is that it hasn’t happened, at least  _not yet_. As strange as it might sound, he presumes it’s a scene of the future since he has no other explanation for it. Every time he experiences this phenomenon, it has been accompanied by a strong gut feeling that leads him to believe it’s possible he’ll be living in that reality one day soon. This isn’t the first circumstance of it occurring, either. So far, his track record is two out of three, which means out of the three different visual flashes he’s experienced seeing in his life, two of them turned out to be prophetic and came true.

 

So Gendry holds this delightful image that hasn’t happened yet in his mind, eyes closed. No better way to use his wish than to ask the universe for help in turning what he’s seen into a tangible, permanent reality.

 

Long into their stargazing and pleasant chit chat, a memory from long ago of the last time he looked at the stars next to a woman surfaces to the forefront of his mind. Much like a latent image blooming to life in a tray of developer under red safelights. Gendry remembers he ended up ignoring both his vexed companion and the stars by the end of the night, opting to play on his iPhone instead. He catches himself comparing that memory to the present, a habit that he’s been guilty of ever since they confessed their love to one another. 

 

He shouldn’t act surprised every time the scale weighs in Arya’s favour, because he’s not, but he is borderline comically impressed and easily awed when it comes to her. 

 

“ _What did you wish for_?” she whispers to him later before they doze off.

 

He hasn’t told her yet about the image he keeps seeing in his mind. Or that he’s experienced this marvel before. Gendry wishes he could spoil a portion of what he’s seen by telling her how beautiful she’ll look when she dyes her hair light pink one day. But he’d rather not risk jinxing his wish from happening, so he whispers back instead, “ _A happy ending_.”

••

**_Saturday, 4 May 2019_ **

Gendry wakes to a delicate warm hand with a firm grip holding his morning wood. A pair of pouty lips are wrapped snuggly over the taut foreskin pulled away from his swelling head. Through the darkness of rousing slumber, he feels her lips and tongue create a gentle, deliciously maddening suction around his thick spongy flesh with the clear objective to draw him back into the land of the living to join her. Her mischievous and talented tongue traces lightly along the spectacular curved ridges of his thick mushroom-shaped tip. Arya’s attention redirects to his sensitive frenulum, which she flicks with the tip of her tongue, up and down. Salty arousal pools along his slit, which her tongue collects a trickle of a moment later, prompting her to hum a genuine moan around his girth. The muscles in his lower abdomen tighten in response while liquid fire spreads through his loins with the same velocity as the roaring waterfall behind them. He hardens completely within his little minx’s mouth to a density reminiscent of marble. 

 

Despite the early morning chill that has seeped through the nylon walls of their tent, Arya’s wanton mouth keeps him warm. They must have moved into the tent at some point during the middle of the night after the fire died out. His Prussian blue eyes crack open and look down at the mouth belonging to his generous lover. Eyes bleary from sleep cause Gendry to accidentally knock his hand into her forehead as he blindly reaches to pet the top of her head. He apologizes in a rough sandpaper voice and cracks a lopsided grin to find her luminous and alluring grey eyes already staring back at him. He pushes his hips up, thrusting the tip further down her tongue along with another inch of his cock, and drags his hand to the back of her head, pushing gently. Arya smiles coquettishly up at him from around the mouthful he’s just given her. He hisses with mind-bending gratification when she closes her lips and slides him further down her tongue. She hasn’t even  _started_  sucking yet, but already he's imagining himself slathering her face in his come twenty different ways.

 

A year ago today, Gendry awoke with a wretched hangover, filled with an overwhelming sense of loneliness despite lying next to the sleeping form of his ex he broke up with two years prior. In a moment of weakness on the night before his birthday, he had texted her, not wanting to spend it alone. They agreed to scratch an itch for the other and nothing further, but Gendry found himself in need of more and feeling disappointedly hollow by the end of their tryst. What he hadn’t realized at the time was that he  _thought_ he wanted simple, no strings attached sex for his birthday. But truthfully he wanted a heaping dose of romance and affection to go along with it. And of course, that was impossible to find at the last minute on the pull, especially with an ex who he left because he needed more affection than she was capable of giving.

 

Needless to say, this morning is proving to be vastly different from a year ago, and for that fact, Gendry couldn’t be more chuffed or grateful. 

 

He rocks his hips into Arya’s face, pushing his cock further into her mouth as she rearranges her jaw to accommodate him. She strokes him loosely with one hand, dragging spit down his shaft and coating her palm so it can glide. The early morning sun is beginning to dissolve the darkness but hasn’t quite reached inside their tent yet. Gendry squints and discovers Arya is shirtless with their blanket draped over her shoulders. Which should have left him uncovered and shivering in the cold tent, except his brilliant and thoughtful girlfriend laid a hoodie over his bare chest before scooting down to wake him.

 

Gendry wishes he could flip her around, so she was straddling his face while sucking his cock. He’s been yearning to do that again, even dreamt about it the other night. After days of having to abstain from giving her his oral attention, he was so looking forward to willfully drowning himself betwixt her thighs this weekend. But alas, they must wait a few more days, which will only intensify his thirst for her sweet honey to a shambolic degree. It doesn’t take long for him to divulge that to Arya while she attempts to deep throat him. He’s uninhibited and lacking a filter this morning whilst lounging between scrumptious relaxed drowsiness and pleasure drenched consciousness. 

 

“ _I wanna taste you so bad, baby_ ,” he whispers, voice gruff. _“Fuck, I miss licking your sweet pussy.”_

 

Gendry’s an open book at the moment.

 

She whimpers against his cock as she backs off, letting it slide out of her throat. His eyes promptly roll back in his head when the vibrations from her vocal cords seep through his skin. When just the tip remains in her mouth, Arya begins to double her effort, sucking him earnestly in time with the strokes she’s making with her hand. All ten of Gendry’s fingers wind up tangled in her hair. The blanket begins to drift down her nude back.

 

“ _Fuuuckk, I love the way you twist your head side to side when you’re sucking me, baby. How did you-fuuck-who taught you-ooh fuck, yes, just like that. No one’s ever-I haven’t-aw-shit-even seen that in porn._ ”

 

A pleased giggle turns into a choke, which turns into a brief interlude. He hasn’t finished cooing over her worryingly before Arya resumes sucking him again and moaning while doing so. Two tears travel down her cheeks, a byproduct from choking. If he wasn’t so close to coming right now, he’d be more concerned.

 

_“Aww-fuck-I’d have two fingers deep inside that pretty pink cunt of yours by now, licking that cute little clit over my face while you suck my cock. Yeah, baby, just like that, I’m so close. Grab my ba-yesss, didn’t even need-to-ahh FUCK, Arya, I’m-_ ” His veins detonate, filling his bloodstream with ecstasy as he’s rendered deaf, dumb, and blind. Gendry grunts deeply, the sound booming from his chest as he holds her face with both hands. Streams of warm come splash against the back of her throat, coating her tongue translucent white. His hearing is the next to go out of commission. All he can hear is his tinnitus and pulse thrumming loudly in his ears. Arya applies a tighter suction and milks him into her mouth with the aid of her twisting hand, swallowing every dribble and drop. Only one thought, word, and concept permeate through his mind, aura, and every fibre that constructs his being:  _love_. It’s devouring him whole. He imagines a wave of pink cotton candy fog containing a 1000cc of pure euphoria hovering above, drugging him like laughing gas. And Arya is the administer, languidly licking and gently kissing his cock through each stage of orgasm until he begins to eventually wilt in her hand. 

 

“Happy birthday, baby,” Arya greets him at last. Her voice is rough from sleep and nonuse. She shifts between his legs and tugs off the hoodie she draped over him earlier to begin nuzzling her face against the rippled surface of his stomach. He laughs with eyes closed as he feels her lips now taking the time to kiss every sculpted ab as she makes her way up to his chest. After crawling to meet him face to face, they both reach for the blanket and tug it over them. Gendry’s arms wind tightly around her waist as she settles in beside him. He cradles and rocks her, dropping enthusiastic kisses all over her face and hair, making her laugh. 

 

“Thank you, my love,” Gendry tells her, hands now roving over her body beneath the blanket. Cupping her naked breasts, her waist, the bottom of her ass through her knickers. She responds immediately to his touch, lifting her leg and winding it high up around his hip. Arya directs his face to hers, kissing him deeply as she presses her warm mound against his thigh. Her mouth still tastes like his spend, and something about that pleases him greatly, making him moan into the kiss. His tongue maps the walls of her mouth, following the taste of him. Knowing he’s the second man Arya has ever sucked off and suddenly feeling territorially annoyed by the fact he wasn’t the first, inspires him to release the breast he had been squeezing to spank her. His hand comes down hard and quick on her amble ass cheek, producing a loud smack smothered by the insulation of the blanket. Arya’s squeals are muffled by his mouth, as is the long and loud moan that follows directly after. Fingers gently massage the red flesh to soothe the sting. Despite feeling like she sucked his very soul from out of his bollocks, Gendry’s body is slowly rebounding; merely incapable of resisting her. 

 

The hand on her ass drifts lower between her cheeks until his fingers are reaching for her pussy, stroking over her knickers from behind. He entices a groan from her, making Arya push her ass back into his hand and grind slowly, up and down. Still feeling amazingly uninhibited, the next thought that comes to Gendry’s mind is also emitted aloud by his lips.

 

“ _You know what I’d love to do? Lick you from behind. While you’re on all fours._ ” The three fingers stroking over her centre press in a little harder on their next pass. Arya’s thigh squeezes tightly, pulling him in closer and digs her fingers roughly into his hair, moaning into his neck. 

 

“ _Mmm, I’d love that_ ,” Arya whines while he continues stroking over the fabric that is hiding her swelling lips. 

 

Gendry pulls on her ass cheek so he can readjust his wrist between her thighs in order to better reach Arya’s clit; his hand still teasing her from behind. His fingers work to pull her knickers aside next, and instantly skim against slippery wet folds. She’s sopping wet, and while he knows she’s on her period, he’s convinced that can’t be all he’s feeling between his fingers. More than half must be of her arousal for him if the way she’s moaning and grinding is any indication for how randy she is this morning. 

 

As he splits her on two long fingers, Gendry whispers to her, voice deep and husky, forehead pressed against hers. “ _As soon as I’m allowed to go down on you again, I’m going to make you get on your knees with your face down on the bed._ ” 

 

Arya’s chest is heaving with panting breath. Plump tits drag up and down his chest. “ _And then?_ ” she whispers back, voice breathy. Her ass is grinding back onto his plunging fingers.

 

Gendry’s cock is beginning to grow hard again between them. Licking his lips, he whispers to her, “ _I’m going to crawl behind you and lick your pretty pussy. It’ll be pink and beautiful and so wet for me._ ” He leans back a bit and pulls her with him by the fingers inside her, making Arya moan loudly and clench around his digits. He’s arranged them so that she’s now straddling his hips and laying on his chest. She curves her spine to push her cunt back onto his eager to please fingers. They stretch and curl, searching for her G-spot from the unfamiliar angle. Arya jerks her pelvis with a loud gasp once he rediscovers it. He probes the spongy flesh with the back of his knuckle, while his free hand plucks and torments her stiff pink nipples. She ruts against his hard cock that has been revived, smashing her clit against the underside while his fingers plunge in and out of her tight wetness from behind. 

 

Arya’s eyes are closed, and she’s beginning to hold her breath, which tells him she’s so close to exploding into a million fragments around his fingers buried deep inside her. He shifts his body beneath to better reach her tits with his mouth, making sure his fingers never stop fucking her. Pulling a hard nipple between his lips, Gendry gently bites down on the pebbled rosebud, laving it with his tongue. Her walls begin to close in on his fingers. She’s moaning a repetitive series of _oh fuck_  and  _please, please_. 

 

“ _I can’t wait to suck on you’re adorable clit. I’m gonna lick you from cunt to arse. You want that? You want me to lick you between your cheeks again, sweetheart?”_

 

_“Unnff!! Yes_ ss!” she cries, and every muscle in her body seizes for a long silent moment as she approaches the crest right before taking the heart-stopping plunge. Listening and responding to her body like an elegant fine-tuned clock, Gendry thrusts his fingers in her vigorously and latches his mouth onto the erect nipple in front of his face, sucking increasingly hard. Three breathless seconds later, Arya’s throat finally erupts in wails and grunts as she free falls at last, plummeting to _hell never looked so sweet_  depths. There are few sounds Gendry could willingly spend the rest of his life listening to, but the incredible sound of his little wolf coming for him would definitely be high on the list. 

 

He cradles her with one arm wrapped around her waist while his index and middle fingers remain shoved between her legs. Arya continues to shake and float back down to earth until she finds herself back in her body, laying on top of his chest. Eventually, she moves again by snuggling her face into the side of his neck. 

 

“I have to use the loo. I don’t wanna,” she informs him, and something about the bitter reluctance in her voice makes him laugh. 

 

“It was your idea to go camping,” Gendry reminds her with a smile. 

 

“ _I know_ ,” she sighs and burrows deeper under the blanket. 

 

His hand searches for the hoodie she laid over him earlier and drags it under the blanket, which he then lifts over their heads to create a tent within a tent. It’s lighter out now, but he has plunged them back into darkness, making it more challenging to get dressed laying on your back. Arya wiggles into the hoodie with his help. Static electricity makes her hair go haywire, sticking to the walls of their makeshift tent. Gendry’s foot runs over what feels like the leggings she discarded last night, and grabs the fabric between his toes, drawing his leg up to retrieve them with his hand, and gives them to her to slide on. He makes her laugh when he begins searching for his own clothes with just one hand outside of the warmth of their dark cocoon. Finally, after several humorous minutes, Gendry is dressed too. They slowly pull the blanket back down, allowing their faces to be met by the cold air of the tent that somehow now feels colder, and take turns crawling out to begin their morning. 


End file.
